


The Measure of a Man

by fayedartmouth



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Families of Choice, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-03-20 18:45:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 140,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3661083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fayedartmouth/pseuds/fayedartmouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor is banished to Earth.  Reclaiming his worth is harder than he thinks it will be.  AU of the movie Thor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Thor or any part of the MCU.
> 
> A/N: This got so out of control, I don’t even know. It’s an AU of the movie Thor, wherein Loki does not come to see Thor on Earth and never tries to kill him. In fact, no one comes for Thor at all, and he’s left on Earth to rebuild his life. Beta by g-rox-theninja, who was very kind to undertake this project. The fic is probably about 15 chapters long, and it's all written but in various stages of revision, so I will hopefully post semi-regularly until this thing is up in its entirety :)

For Thor, it had always started with the hammer. As a boy, he’d danced around it, daring to touch the hilt while his father wasn’t looking. He’d dreamed of holding it, hoisting it aloft to vanquish all his foes.

The first time he held it, the first time he was worthy: Thor had changed.

No longer was he a child. Now, he would be a warrior. Now, he would be a warrior to bring glory to Asgard. Now, he would be suited to rise up and ascend the throne.

It had been confidence and power. It had been pride and might. It had been his worth.

For Thor, it had always started with the hammer.

He should have realized, it would end with it, too.

-o-

Thor tumbled through the realms, falling hard and falling fast. The bifrost always took some getting used to, but this journey was unlike any other. When he finally tumbled free, he hit the ground hard, staggering and looking up--

Like a flash of lightning, and thunder rolling in his ears.

-o-

This was no Asgard, nor was it any realm Thor remembered well. The people were small and perplexing, using a vernacular that he could not exactly place. They used small weapons and talked of simple things. He might enjoy a foray into their territory under other circumstances, but not today.

Not after starting a war and being banished.

Definitely not today.

When the youngest one pulled her gun, Thor could barely tolerate it. For he was Thor, and this place was far from home and his father would send for him. Heimdall would see him. He would go _home_.

Until the blast hit him in the chest and Thor was falling once again.

-o-

The first few hours were confusing. The next day or so had been an adventure in uncertainty. Stuck on Midgard with no apparent power or any means of travel, he was lost and adrift. They asked him for his identification and to explain his presence, but Thor did not have satisfactory answers. When they deemed him fit, he was allowed to leave, and he had one purpose.

To find his way back home.

Thor was alone and adrift, with no viable means of survival, but Thor was not stupid. Nor was Thor weak of heart. If Heimdall would not call him home, Thor would make his own way.

For Asgard was his realm, and he would not be kept from it. His father would see his worth upon his return, and all would be made well.

Thor would fight against the Frost Giants and bring victory to the realms.

All would be right again.

-o-

The people were strange, but kind. Jane Foster was curious, and looked at him in that keen way that Thor had seen in Loki so many times. Erik Selvig was more cautious, as though he suspected Thor was a threat. Darcy Lewis, however, seemed merely amused.

Thor figured they were all right.

-o-

Then he heard of the object in the desert, too strong to be moved by mortal hands.

He knew.

For Mjölnir would always call to him.

And Mjölnir would always take him home.

-o-

When Thor found his hammer, he smiled. Tired and weary, soaked to the bone and sore, he was so close now. This would fix everything. His hammer was everything to him; it was his power and his strength. It defined him.

It would take him home.

Reaching down, he felt the anticipation surge. The skies had opened for him, the torrential rain like a blessing. Nothing could stop him now. Nothing would.

Fingers clasped down around the familiar handle, his calloused hands were perfectly contoured upon it. This was fate. This was destiny.

This was _salvation._

The storm flashed; Thor clenched his teeth and lifted.

-o-

He’d seen it before. He’d seen countless people try to lift his hammer. Foes on the battlefield, attempting to slay him with his own weapon. Even his friends had tried to take it, straining against the inevitability of their failure. Loki tried once, and had walked away, red faced and chin up, as he muttered, “I have no need for it anyway.”

Thor had laughed at their failures; relished it. It always seemed so foolish, those thinking themselves worthy enough to wield it.

But as he pulled at Mjölnir, it was dead to him. It stayed firm in the rock, still beneath his touch. He fought and strained, but it defied him.

He understood now, the rejection that this was. He understood now, just what had changed.

The hammer was Thor’s no longer, and he was no longer in it. The power imbued to him had been forfeit and stripped, and he was nothing now. For the Prince of Asgard was nothing but a mortal, and this hammer stood before him as a testament to his failure.

He should have known. He should have recognized the gift when it was still his to hold. He should have realized the consequences of his vices, and saved himself from this bereft humiliation.

It mattered not, though, even as the storm rages and the men surround him. For it was done now, it was over. He was on Midgard, and the hammer would lie vacant before him as a monument to his foolishness.

For Thor, son of Odin and Prince of Asgard, was not worthy.

-o-

He no longer fought. These people, they put him in a room and asked him questions. They talked and talked, asking who he was and where he came from. Thor felt nothing of defiance, but in truth, he knew not what to say.

For where he had come from no longer mattered. Asgard was lost to him, tucked up amongst the stars. His family was beyond him, and his friends would fight battles he can only imagine. He would never know what threats of war existed, and he would never again bring glory to his father’s house or protect his people.

They were no longer his people, and he was no longer their golden son. In fact, Thor scarcely knew who he was. He was a stranger to himself, a mere wisp of who he used to be. He was finite, now, laid low and meager, and all the comforts he craved were denied to him. He would never hear his father’s stories; he would never feel his mother’s touch. He would never celebrate with his companions or share a laugh with his brother.

Thor was _nothing_. He would be but a footnote in the history books, a cautionary tale mothers told their children. “Don’t forfeit your worth, dear. Not like Thor, the once Prince of Asgard.”

He is cold and he was lonely. He had _nothing_.

In the plain, bleak room, they asked him, “Why are you here?”

Thor looked away, refusing to cry before them. “It was a mistake,” he said finally, voice raw and wavering. “One I am afraid I will never undo.”

They asked him more questions, but Thor said nothing. To him, there was nothing left to say.

-o-

They came, and they went. They offered him food and drink, but Thor declined. He was their captive, and he knew not what their intentions were. The idea of incarceration was bleak, but Thor found himself indifferent.

A small cell, a small planet; they were much the same, he thought, for they were so very, very far from home.

-o-

The hours passed with agonizing slowness.

He wondered if someone will come, if Heimdall could see him here. Maybe the All-Father would take pity on him; perhaps his friends would sneak out on his behalf. Even Loki might come for him, for they had never been far apart.

In his desperation, Thor dared to hope.

But no one came.

No one was ever coming.

Thor bowed his head and accepted this fate.

-o-

The loneliness was heavy. The failure was paralyzing.

The knowledge that it was all his own doing, though--

That was the bitterest of all.

-o-

Thor barely glanced up when the door opened, but when he caught sight, it gave him pause.

It was Erik Selvig, the friend of Jane Foster. Their conversations had always been amicable, if restrained.

Until now.

Now, he crossed the threshold with a smile. “Oh, Donny, Donny, Donny,” he says, wrapping a hand around Thor’s bicep. “It’s all right now.”

Selvig was strange, but he was not stupid either. He knew Thor’s name, which meant such an obvious mistake was decidedly intentional. If Selvig had secured him safe passage, it had been by some means of trickery. 

After years around Loki’s trickery, Thor knew enough not to contradict Selvig, but he did not know exactly what to say.

Therefore, he said nothing, allowing himself to be lifted from the chair as Selvig rambled. “I’m taking you home now,” he promised.

It was not the rescue Thor had yearned for.

He was not above taking it, nonetheless.

-o-

Clothes stiff from the dried mud, Thor felt painfully self-conscious. He was not accustomed to being told what to do, nor was he accustomed to being forced to listen. Yet, he realized that without the benefits of his birth, he had few other assets. Thor was conceited and egocentric, as had been proven, but he was not stupid.

Cautiously, he followed the Son of Coul, eyeing the guards warily. Their weapons were archaic but effective, and Thor realized now just how foolish he’d been to breach their security. A single shot could have be the death of him.

It was not a common feeling, that pang of fear. Thor had never felt stricken with thoughts of mortality. He had never approached battle with uncertainty of his survival. He was never one to leave a fight, to use baser means to obfuscate his goal.

Deception had been Loki’s domain, and Thor had seen it to be lesser.

It was his only salvation now.

Then, he saw the book.

It Jane’s book, the one with her notes. She had lost much, and Thor had promised her everything. He had no means to fulfill those promises, but with a furtive glance at those around him, he thought maybe he could fulfill this much.

“Dr. Selvig--” a voice called, and Thor did not turn but he recognized it as the Son of Coul.

Next to him, Selvig went stiff, but he did not turn either. Thor tensed, fingers tight around the book, wondering what should come of him if this did turn to blows. He had bested them once, but if they used their weapons, Thor would be at a stark disadvantage. He did not wish to hurt them, and Erik Selvig was doing him a service in his escape. He dared not risk his life.

Consequences, Thor knew now. He had to be wary of the consequences

“Just keep him away from the bars,” the Son of Coul concluded, and the pressure in Thor’s chest unfurled slightly as Selvig let out a breath.

“I will!” Selvig called back, pulling Thor forward again.

As they gained distance, Thor kept his voice low. “Where are we going?”

Selvig did not look back; he did not look at Thor. His face was strained and he grimaced. “To get a drink.”

Anonymity, Thor realized as he tucked the book behind him and kept pace with Selvig, might just have its perks.

-o-

The moment they were in Selvig’s transport, Thor was overcome with relief. Back in the small, white room, he’d been given to despair. He’d thought his existence to be meaningless; he’d seen no hope.

Even now, he was in a vehicle with a man he hardly knew and an identity that was not his own. And yet, there was something of hope.

No hope of Asgard, of course. No hope of his family or his friends. No hope of reclaiming his hammer.

But _hope_.

Thor’s foolishness and short-sighted nature had bested him on Jotunheim. He could ill afford to be so cavalier now. Every decision mattered, from the big to the small. He had done this to himself, and if he could not change it, he would at the very least not repeat it. For things could be worse.

He looked to the sky, and thought about war among the realms. He wondered if peace had faltered, and if his father had summoned his army to fight on the fronts on Jotunheim. He wondered how many would fall, and who would protect his friends and his brother when the battle turned hard?

Here, on Midgard, there was no war. On Midgard, there were just simple people living simple lives. They worked and they toiled; they ate and they laughed. If this was a prison cell, then it was better than he deserved.

There were people. Good people with plans and hopes and dreams. The landscape was scenic, and the stars were vast. The inventions were limited, but satisfactory. The people laughed and worked, much the same as on Asgard.

There were no golden streets. There was no rainbow bridge. The ancient courts of his father’s palace were nothing but a memory here. But for all that Midgard lacked, at least there was still mead.

Selvig called it a bar, and the strange appearance looked primitive to Thor. But when he was handed a bottle of something Selvig called beer, Thor saw his prospects rise.

It was a small solace, but the weight of Mjölnir was fresh on his mind, and he would take it.

He would take any solace there was to find.

-o-

Selvig watched him with the first bottle. When Selvig ordered a second, he gave Thor a curious look, as if trying to decide something. Finally, he asked what exactly Thor was thinking.

Who was he? Why was he here? What did he intend to do?

Thor had endured these questions from the Son of Coul, but Erik Selvig was as much a friend as Thor had on this planet. There was no benefit in lying.

Even so, the answers were elusive.

“For the first time in my life,” Thor admitted, “I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.”

This did not surprise Selvig, as though such trials were commonplace. For all Thor knew, they were common. These mortals had far fewer years to learn their lessons, far fewer chances to get it right. On Asgard, they thought that this was their limitation.

Sitting in the bar, Thor wondered if it was actually their strength.

-o-

Selvig had just one request: to leave. Depart this town, and leave Jane Foster alone.

Thor had lost much already -- a home, a family, a birthright and a destiny -- giving this up seemed no harder.

He was a burden to these people, and he had no right to ask anything of them.

In truth, Thor had no rights at all.

So Thor took the mead, and gave his word -- for it was all he had left to offer.

-o-

Being cast out and rejected was not an easy thing, but the mead certainly did help. Thor was not accustomed to defeat, but among the mortals, he found he could still find a certain kind of solace. Selvig seemed put out that Thor was able to finish his drink first, so he bought him another. By the time they were on the next, someone crowed and thumped Thor on the back, asking to make it another.

Selvig talked to him of science and magic, gods and myths. They talked of ancient civilizations and the pathways amongst the stars.

After several more rounds – Thor lost track at this point -- Thor was asked to demonstrate his prowess in other areas as well. The games were foreign to him, but darts was something like knife throwing and the game they called pool was about concentration and aim. As Thor struggled to master these tasks, he could only think how much better Loki would be at them.

Still, his present companions did not seem to notice any such struggling. They bought him several more drinks, and with each victory, Thor roared with laughter as they clapped in approval. “Thor!” they called, for they had asked his name. “The god of thunder!”

It was not a title he knew of, but it was not one he could deny. When Thor told them of Asgard and other realms, they cheered and raised their drinks.

They were compromised intellectually by the drink, but it mattered not to Thor. The hearty approval of these people was a far cry from the cheers of his people back on Asgard, but it was all he had.

“Come!” he called, raising his drink aloft. “Let us make our ancestors proud!”

He had one last night to be a _god_ among men.

-o-

It was not until Selvig laughed so hard that he fell out of his chair, Thor realized that perhaps he was the only man left standing.

Indeed, the bar was clearing out, and Selvig was quite intoxicated.

“Good show, buddy,” the man behind the counter said. “But it’s time to close up.”

“Thank you,” Thor said, downing the last of his drink. He looked down, where Selvig was fumbling to sit up. Thor had failed to realize the effect of the drink. While his own senses were pleasantly dulled, he had full control of his faculties. The mead here was not as powerful as back on Asgard, and though he was mortal, Thor’s tolerance was still something to be reckoned with.

It was just as well, Thor supposed. For if Selvig was incapacitated, Thor had no choice but to assist the man. After all, Erik Selvig had been kind to him and helped Thor when he had no means to help himself. He had listened to Thor’s troubles and made no judgments. He had requested that Thor depart and leave Jane alone, terms he had readily acquiesced to.

However, leaving a man so vulnerable was not in his nature. Indeed, Selvig was here for him, and Thor owed him the decency of safe passage home.

“Come,” he said, reaching down to help pull Selvig to his feet. Selvig swayed wildly, and Thor braced them both. “We should be off.”

Selvig worked hard to steady himself, bringing his gaze up to meet Thor’s with wide eyed wonder. “Are you really the god of thunder?” he asked, the words slurred together.

Thor’s stomach twisted, and he had to work to keep smiling. It was a simple question, and one Thor could understand. These mortals knew nothing of the realms; they had no verifiable contact with the rest of Yggdrasil. The All-Father had insisted on keeping distance, to let the lesser races develop as they would without any interference. Their science was limited, and though they had the imagination to dream, they were skeptical to their core -- always asking _why._

Thor had rarely asked why, he had always assumed. He’d taken much for granted: his station, his family, his friends, his hammer. Worth was not gained from a long lived existence or advance science. Worth was gained from making the most of what was put before you.

These mortals, they had a fraction of the gifts Thor had been granted. Yet, they lived with so much more veracity.

“In a way,” Thor finally answered, helping Selvig to the door. Selvig hiccupped and stumbled as Thor kept him upright. His throat was tight, but he forced the words to come. “At least, I used to be.”

-o-

They had arrived at this establishment in Selvig’s transport. However, since Selvig was currently incapacitated, it did not seem wise to ask him to operate the vehicle. In his limited time on Midgard, Thor had been in these transports several times and the technology seemed fairly rudimentary. Even so, Midgardians seemed to require proper documentation to operate these contraptions, which Thor could only conclude was an issue of legality. Normally, Thor might ignore such stipulations as silly, but after being locked up in one facility for the evening, Thor did not relish the thought of having it happen again.

After his failure to retrieve his hammer, Thor’s precarious position was made painfully known to him. He was not Thor, of Asgard. No, he was as much of Midgard as Selvig or any of the other mortals. He could not defy their rules, and they had the means to bring punitive actions against him as they saw fit. Thor had to be careful; he had to be respectful.

If being banished would teach him anything, it would be that his actions had consequences.

Thus decided, Thor attempted to find alternative means of transportation. His efforts were confounded until the man who had been behind the bar finally came out to lock up and offered to call him a cab.

“Is this a means of transportation?” Thor asked.

The man raised his eyebrows. “Sure, man,” he said. “Though, next time, you should two should think about a designated driver.”

Next time. Thor wet his lips, nodding as he kept Selvig steady. “Indeed,” he agreed. “Next time.”

-o-

Though Selvig was intoxicated, he was able to recite the address of Jane’s laboratory, which was sufficient. Thor made a mental note of the numbers and the words, for even if he was never to return to this place, it was good to know how such things were identified.

“So your planet,” Selvig slurred, “it’s called what?”

“Asgard,” Thor supplied. “It is a golden kingdom, and we see it as our duty to watch over the realms.”

“And the people there,” Selvig said. “They are all like you?”

Thor chuckled. “Many are similar, yes,” he said. “We are a culture of warriors, but we have those who are dedicated to science and art and music. We understood millennia ago that victory is not only found on a battlefield.”

Selvig raised his eyebrows. “Really?” he asked. “Because you don’t seem like the type. Science and art and music…”

“I studied them all, yes,” Thor said. Then he looked away. “Though I am afraid I never paid them as much attention as I should have. I took it for granted--”

And now it would never be his again. He would not hear the songs of celebration in the courts of his father’s palace. He would never hear the stories of old, recited as a testament to the ages past. There was more than battle; there was more than honor.

At least, there had been.

Thor had been blind to sacrifice it all so willingly, charging into Jotunheim to prove his point. Now the realms might be at war, and Thor started a battle he would never finish.

Selvig laughed. “Well, if I were the god of thunder, I wouldn’t study either,” he hiccupped.

“I was foolish, perhaps,” Thor said.

Selvig laughed some more, cutting off with a groan as he slumped against the seat. “Aren’t we all.”

-o-

They arrived at Jane’s laboratory, but when Thor found it empty, he found himself somewhat vexed. Selvig had all but passed out, and Thor was fairly certain that there would be laws against unlawful entry on this planet.

“She’s probably in the trailer,” Selvig said, staggering as he took a step and nearly falling into the wall.

“What is the trailer?” Thor asked.

Selvig turned. “A mobile home,” he said before promptly walking into the wall and crumpling toward the ground.

Thor moved quickly, catching him and pulling him up. That was when he looked across the street and saw the large vehicle not far away. Mobile implied a means of transportation. Yet this vehicle was large enough to fit inside, if not comfortably than acceptably.

Mobile home. Trailer.

Thor nodded, hoisting Selvig over his shoulder. “Very well, then,” he said. “Let us get you home.”

-o-

Jane’s home was small and messy. After spending a lifetime in the spacious halls of the All-Father’s castle, it was something of a contrast Thor could hardly understand. Except this was no kingdom. What Jane had, she had made for herself.

Besides, he reminded himself, at least she had a home, be it small, messy or otherwise. It was more than Thor had.

Jane was embarrassed and awkward, as though his presence befuddled her. It was a strangely endearing trait, and somewhat perplexing considering that he was nothing to her. Midgardians society seemed much less structured, and though they were more likely to be prone to violence and certain vices, they were also surprisingly good natured. Most had been nothing if not kind to him, even when he had nothing to offer in return.

Jane had been, more so than most.

Perhaps her kindness was curiosity. Maybe it was guilt for hitting him with her transport, twice. Or maybe it was genuine affection.

It mattered not, for Thor had promised to leave.

She did not wish him to go however. Her concern was genuine, even when Thor’s promises had proven themselves to be fallacies. She wanted him to stay.

And standing there, in her small mobile home, Thor realized he wanted to stay, too. No one else wanted him in the realms, but her.

For tonight, he had to wonder if that was enough.

-o-

The roof of Jane’s laboratory was not particularly impressive. The view was minimal and the grandeur was somewhat lacking. The furniture was paltry, and the flame she roused to warm them left much to be desired.

Even so, Thor found himself smitten.

It was something to watch her, to see her, as he had never taken the time to do so before. She had been a means to an end before, and though he’d been companionable, he’d never deigned to imagine her as anything but a lesser being. She was mortal, after all, and her life was fleeting. Her science was limited, and her skills were rudimentary.

Thor had been polite, but he’d never looked twice at her. He’d never expected to have such need.

Now, though, their positions were reversed. This was her land and this was her home; he was a meager trespasser with nothing to offer her. For all his knowledge and skill, he was no better than her now.

Though in truth, he was beginning to suspect he never was.

The way she talked; the way she looked. She had no hopes of grandeur -- surely, not like he had. Yet, she persisted, almost unrelenting, to pursue her endeavors. She did not rely upon her status or birth; she did not think to deem herself worthy. No, Jane Foster did the best she could and expected no accolades. Her life would be short and would never amount to anything beyond the sphere of her limited influence, and yet she approached her existence with wonder and tenacity.

It was remarkable.

She was remarkable.

He had had little time for her before, but now, he had nothing but time -- limited though his life may be. If he could accomplish nothing, he could do right by her.

-o-

She was far too grateful for the book. His meager offering was accepted with grace and excitement. Though it felt good to see her smile, he realized how much more he wished he could give. But as she talked of the stars, he realized perhaps he had more to offer.

He was no expert in science on Asgard, but he knew enough.

As he talked, explaining Yggdrasil as best he could, she naturally filled in the blanks. She was bright and astute, and when she looked at him, her eyes were focused.

“Tell me more,” she said. It was a plaintive, eager demand.

Thor smiled and readily acquiesced.

-o-

That night, they talked of the stars. They talked of planets and galaxies, realms and homes. She listened attentively, eyes on him before he pointed up at the sky. He would talk all night to see the wonder alight in her eyes.

When she finally dozed off, he found himself restless. It was hard to understand, the wonder and joy of creatures so small and meaningless. Perhaps, though, meaning was not what one offered to the universe. Maybe it was what one gained from the universe.

Thor wasn’t sure, but as he adjusted the blanket about her shoulders, he almost dared to hope.

-o-

While Jane slept, Thor watched the stars. They were static, and he could see nothing in them. He wondered if Heimdall could see him, if the gatekeeper cared at all about his plight. He wondered if Odin was poised upon his throne, making declarations of war and sending his troops into battle. Would the Warriors Three fight without him? Would Sif stand strong without his leadership? Would Loki lead the charge in his stead?

Did his mother weep for him? Did his father have regrets? Did Loki look up at the sky and wonder about him? The same as Thor did now?

Thor would never know.

The sense of loss was crushing, and Thor turned his eyes away. He glanced again at Jane before surrendering to a fitful sleep until the dawn broke.

-o-

When Jane roused, Thor had barely slept. Still, when she looked over at him, he smiled.

She laughed awkwardly, hastily smoothing her hair behind her ears. “You stayed here all night?”

Thor shrugged. “It was surprisingly comfortable,” he said, and if it wasn’t the truth, it also wasn’t an outright lie.

Quickly sitting up, she blushed. “I just never meant--” she started and then faltered. She laughed again. “You didn’t have to stay.”

Thor didn’t have the heart to say that he had no place else to go.

-o-

With no duties to perform and no warriors to lead, Thor took his cues from those around him. Jane made sure the fire was out before going back downstairs. There, she checked some equipment, busying herself with readings before offering to let Thor take a shower.

There was no reason to disagree, so Thor politely asked for more clothing.

“Oh, yeah,” she said, nodding toward the closet. “Whatever’s in there, you can have. Though you’ll probably want to get some of your own if you plan on staying.”

Thor considered that, both the clothing and the staying. He remembered his promise to Selvig, though, and turned away. “Yes, of course,” he said, ducking toward the bathroom with some urgency.

-o-

In the shower, he contemplated his situation. He had no clothes. He had no possessions. He had no viable form of currency. He had no identification -- which seemed to be a concern for Midgardians -- and he had no means of transportation.

All he had were borrowed garments and a promise to a friend that he would depart with due haste.

And the sudden, overwhelming desire to stay.

-o-

Despite his promises, there seemed to be no pressing need to leave immediately. When he got out of the shower, Jane was bent over her journal, muttering to herself. She was so deep in thought that she barely noticed him. Indeed, when he asked, “Do you need assistance?” she startled badly.

“Oh!” she said. “I, um. No. I mean, yes. I mean, I was just thinking about what you told me last night and trying to decide if it made as much sense now as it did then, and I thought if I could get some calculations to confirm it, then you know, you wouldn’t be crazy.”

Thor raised his eyebrows. “And?”

“And I think we’re both crazy,” she said, laughing nervously.

Thor laughed with her. “Perhaps things will seem more clear after you have prepared yourself for the day.”

“Oh,” she said. She glanced down at herself. “Oh, yeah. I’ll, um. Just be a few minutes.”

Thor inclined his head. “Take your time,” he said. “And then we can partake in a meal together.”

“Right,” she said, ducking back toward the bathroom. “And then I may have some questions. Just...don’t go anywhere.”

Thor had promised Selvig, but he had promised Jane as well. One meal would not be too much.

Thor turned to the kitchen. He had a few other things he wished to accomplish anyway.

-o-

It was not hard, thinking of the people he wronged. Giving Jane the journal was an appropriate start, but if this was to be his home, then these people were his people. They deserved his respect, and he had to accept their customs as his own. After his behavior the days prior, he needed to make amends if he planned on being part of this community.

Through the bathroom door, he asked Jane’s permission to take a short leave.

“You’ll be back though, right?” she asked as the water ran in the background.

“If that is your desire,” Thor replied.

“Yes!” Jane said. “I mean, yeah.”

“Very well then,” Thor said. “I shall return shortly. Also, may I have a coffee mug for my own purposes?”

-o-

After securing an adequate mug -- though not the best mug, since it was not his -- he returned to the diner and offered it up as a token of peace. When it was readily accepted, he ventured onward to the pet store, where he apologized for his assumptions regarding the nature of the beasts cared for on the premises. He made a point to pet the small creatures, and assured the man that he meant the animals no ill will.

Security nearly stopped him at the hospital, but Thor did not fight them.

“I merely wish to extend my gratitude,” he said, palms up as they scanned him with what appeared to be a detector of precious metals. “For these people helped me when I was unable to help myself, and I treated them with anger and contempt. It is a good service they perform; to help those who are insensate and ungrateful. I believed I fared better thanks to their interventions, even if I could not see it then.”

“Sure, buddy,” the guard said. “Next time, try not to break anyone’s nose, okay?”

Thor nodded sagely. “Verily,” he promised. “You have my word.”

-o-

On his way back to Jane’s laboratory, he carefully minded the street signs, making note of the measured means of navigation. The light system by which traffic was directed seemed primitive, but mostly effective.

At any rate, he was not hit by any more vehicles.

Progress, he told himself.

It was someplace to start.

-o-

Back at the laboratory, he found Jane pouring a cup of coffee. She smiled. “Hey!” she said. “Get your stuff done?”

“I have made the majority of my amends as best I can,” Thor said. “Many of your people are quite gracious.”

“Well, people like an apology,” Jane said.

“I feel as though I still owe you an apology,” he said.

She flitted a hand through the air, sipping her coffee. “I told you last night, we’re even.”

“Not hardly,” he said, knitting his brow together. “I may have taken one of your coffee cups.”

“Well, sure--”

“And you will not be getting it back,” Thor announced.

Jane closed her mouth. “Oh--”

“I have no means to purchase my own, and I felt as though I needed to give one to the diner to replace the one I destroyed in my excitement,” Thor said.

“Right,” she said. “Well, I am glad you’re past the stage of breaking dishes.”

“Still,” Thor said. “I feel inadequate that I have no means to repay you fully.”

“Well,” Jane said. “I still want to know how you ended up in the desert in the middle of that anomaly. I mean, that’s sort of my entire life’s work, and you’re at the center of it. _You_.”

“I fear I will not be as helpful as you want me to be,” Thor said. “Not for a lack of desire, of course. But the situation is...complicated.”

Jane laughed. “I’m an astrophysicist. It’s all complicated.”

Thor smiled. “I will do everything I can,” he promised.

“Good,” Jane said, starting to smile, taking another hasty sip while she reached for her notebook. “Because I totally have some questions I want to ask you--”

“Of course,” Thor said. “But first, I must ask, do you not require sustenance?”

Jane slurped, glancing back at him. “Sustenance?”

“Food,” Thor said. “Nourishment.”

Jane rummaged through her papers. “Um, there’s coffee?”

Thor looked at the coffee pot. The smell was alluring, but his stomach grumbled. “I was thinking of something more substantive.”

“Oh,” Jane said. “You can look in the fridge.”

Thor turned, trying to make sense of the direction. The kitchen was easy enough to discern, and he could only assume that food would be stored in the largest appliance. “Do you have any fresh meat?” Thor asked, making his way over to it. “Is hunting permitted in this area?”

“Wait, hunting?” Jane asked. “There might be fruit.”

“That is by no means a sufficient morning meal,” Thor said.

Jane looked perplexed. “Um--”

“Come,” Thor said opening the appliance called a fridge to look inside. “Let us come up with something together.”

Jane came back over, chuckling. “As long as it doesn’t involve hunting.”

Thor looked at her, starting to smile. “A compromise, then?”

Easing next to him to look inside, Jane nodded. “I think I can live with a compromise.”

-o-

Growing up in the palace, Thor had never had much need to cook for himself. He had been in the kitchens -- he had even stolen some of the delicacies before the bakers had a chance to serve them -- but he’d never taken the time to appreciate the act.

Accordingly, he knew very little of cooking. In truth, he had very few life skills. Though he could survive any battle, he knew nothing of cooking and cleaning. His mother had badgered him, but he had always been dismissive, calling such tasks irrelevant to his existence.

They were not so irrelevant now.

Indeed, he was very much at Jane’s mercy. He watched intently at her actions, the quick manner she cracked the eggs and the way she positioned the pan on top of the cooking device before starting what he could only assume was a power source. Interested, he noticed the way she mixed the eggs, keeping the mixing utensil out of the pan and separate from other items on the counter.

He was so intent he didn’t realize she was watching him in return.

“Something wrong?” she asked, picking up her coffee again.

Thor felt himself flush inexplicably. “No,” he said. “I am just taking in the full extent of your expertise.”

Jane nearly choked. “I’m not an expert,” she said. “I mean, not at cooking.”

“You seem quite adept--”

Jane laughed, shaking her head as she eyed him. “You really aren’t from around here, are you?”

“I have been rude and foolish,” Thor said. “But I have never intentionally lied to you.”

Smiling, and nodded. “I still don’t know how it’s possible,” she said. “But we’ll get there.”

He brightened.

“First, though,” she said, picking up the mixing utensil once more. “You’re going to learn how to make eggs.”

-o-

Selvig did not look well when he came in. Face unshaven and hair disheveled, he looked positively miserable.

“Erik Selvig!” Thor boomed. “Are you quite recovered from our antics?”

Selvig winced, and then paled.

Then he ran for the bathroom.

Jane nodded sympathetically after him. “Might want to lower your voice a bit.”

Thor frowned. “I do not understand.”

“He’s hungover,” Jane said, matter of fact.

“Hungover?” Thor repeated.

“Have you ever drunk too much alcohol?” Jane asked quizzically.

Thor considered this. “No,” he said frankly.

Jane raised her eyebrows. “So you’re sober?”

“No, I drink plenty of mead,” Thor said. “But it has never given me such an adverse reaction.”

“Well,” Jane said with a low chuckle. “Maybe you really are a god after all.”

-o-

Darcy appeared a short time later with much fanfare. She was not quiet, a trait which Thor could understand and respect. Her disposition was a bit darker, but she embraced life with a different kind of abandon. She did not live for science as did Jane and Selvig. That gave Thor hope that there was a place for him yet.

“So where did you guys all end up last night?” Darcy asked. “I mean, I waited up for a while but none of you came back until, like, after midnight.”

“You waited up?” Jane asked.

“We live in a small town in the middle of the desert,” Darcy said pointedly. “What else was I going to do?”

“You always find something,” Jane muttered.

“That may or may not be true, but you’re avoiding the question,” Darcy said. She looked from Jane to Thor to Selvig.

Selvig groaned. Jane looked away.

“Come on!” Darcy insisted.

Thor gathered a breath. “I took Jane to the site in the desert where the mighty hammer Mjölnir is stuck in the rock,” he said.

“Wait, mew-mew?” she asked. “Like, from the book?”

“It was nothing,” Jane said dismissively.

“It was folly,” Thor said instead. “Mjölnir cannot be lifted by a mere mortal.”

Darcy narrowed her eyes. “So, wait,” she said. “Are you a god or--”

“We’re really not going to talk about it,” Jane said hurriedly.

“Whatever I might have been, I am no longer anymore,” Thor said. “My humiliation last night has convinced me well enough of my status, and I will no longer speak of things that are always to be beyond me.”

“So, you’re saying what exactly?” Darcy asked.

“That what happened last night is over,” Jane said, putting a fresh plate down for herself. She sat down noisily and looked at Thor. “Today’s a new day.”

A new day. Thor almost smiled as he ate his breakfast. A better day.

-o-

Breakfast was a simple affair, but Thor found that it was pleasing. That he had had a part in making and serving it made it all the better. Jane said it was his first real skill. A skill that would prove viable and practical, making his life easier on Midgard.

But as Thor served the breakfast to his new companions, he had to think that making eggs wasn’t the first skill. He smiled politely as he set another plate down. It wasn’t even the most important skill.

-o-

The previous night, Thor had despaired. In a storm he could not control, the emotions had been overwhelming. Even though the desolation lingered, and his sense of failure was profound, Thor could not help but look on the new day as a challenge. If there was no going back, he would forge forward. He had never shied away from any task in his life. He had always been victorious.

True, this was not battle with metal, but it was a war all the same. A war for his existence, and he would prevail.

Which meant it was time to learn.

True, Thor had never been a thorough student in most topics, but when he applied himself, he had found himself quite adept. Usually his preferred topics were of fighting and warfare, but today his task was to learn Midgardian culture and mannerisms.

Indeed, he already knew they were more understated. Breaking things was not an appropriate means of celebration. They were ordered and regulated, imposing strange measures to ensure their own safety. This was perhaps logical considering their lesser healing capabilities.

But Thor needed to know how to be a part of their society. He had to discover what it meant to work and prosper here. He needed to earn money and to learn cultural linguistics in order to be well acclimated to his current conditions.

Thor had to learn how to be human.

-o-

Loki had always been one to study. He read books and memorized texts.

Thor, however, had always been tactile learner. He mastered concepts by _doing_ them.

Therefore, if he was going to be human, he would have to do what his new human companions would do. It was an interesting challenge, for they were each quite particular. From Darcy to Selvig to Jane, Thor could only conclude he had an apt cross section of Midgardian culture, which would help him best adapt to a wide variety of situations. He would need to study them first in turn.

He started with Jane.

Although Selvig was older, this seemed to be Jane’s project. She had been the one bold enough to accompany him on his foolish journey out to Mjölnir, and she had still accepted his presence after his failure. Those were valid reasons to start with Jane.

If he enjoyed watching her and relished in the sound of her voice, that was entirely coincidental.

-o-

After breakfast, Jane seemed to have little desire to clean, which was acceptable with Thor. They deposited their dishes into a device she called a dishwasher. When he inquired about it, she simply told him that they’d deal with it later.

Though she was entirely earnest, Thor suspected her desire to put things off was less about the practical need and more about her desire to do other tasks. Given that Thor had never had to clean up after him, this did not seem objectionable.

“So,” he said, rubbing his hands together as Jane went back to where their equipment used to be. “What will we do next?”

Jane looked up at him, surprised. “We?”

“Of course,” he said. “You desired my assistance last night.”

“Well, sure,” Jane said. “But some of this is pretty technical. I don’t suppose you’re really good with machines?”

Thor frowned. “I have a rudimentary knowledge--”

“I can do this part myself, really,” Jane assured him. “Darcy and Erik are going to help--”

Erik burped, disappearing toward the bathroom again. Darcy was tapping on her communication device. “Um, I know less about your stupid machines than I do about your stupid stars,” she said.

Jane looked vexed. “Well,” she said. “It’s probably best if I do it myself--”

“Please,” Thor said. “I may not have all the knowledge you possess, but I want to help you.”

He approached gently.

“Well,” she said, wavering a bit.

He smiled at her.

She smiled back. “I guess there’s no harm in that.”

-o-

Jane’s work was precise and technical -- and strangely chaotic. Thor hovered close, trying to anticipate her needs, but finding himself woefully lacking. The names she assigned for tools were foreign to him, although some glimpses of the circuitry she was attempting to manipulate made some sense to him.

“The basics,” she told him. “We need to start with the basics. Right now, I don’t even have a way to measure the atmospheric conditions, much less anything attuned to the specialized frequencies. If we’re going to make any progress on my theory, we need to at least get something basic rigged up.”

“Very well,” Thor said. “That sounds like a reasonable goal.”

It sounded reasonable, but Thor quickly determined that it was far loftier than Jane intended it to be. Her workspace was sparse and stripped. The remaining items seemed like nothing more than scraps, and Thor did his best to organize the items as Jane tinkered away obsessively.

After an hour of labor, they had the basic components for a monitoring device, though it seemed unduly crude and when Jane tried to test it, it made strange noises at her. Thor was going to recommend reworking some of the relay systems, but she was so focused on her task that he dared not disturb her. She worked with a certain madness that Thor recognized in the very brilliant and the very dedicated. It reminded him vaguely of Loki.

He wondered about his brother, how he fared. If he missed Thor, or if he was prepared to fill the gap Thor had left. Someone would have to be the crowned prince. Loki would be well suited for a coronation, all lack of battle prowess aside. Loki was smart and determined; he would not fail.

Somehow, that gave him comfort. He liked to think of Asgard in good hands.

Jane muttered a curse, putting her tools down. “This is ridiculous,” she said. “They even took my spare parts. I need wires and conductors and--”

“Then I shall get you some,” Thor said. “Tell me where I may find these items.”

“I had them in my work station,” Jane said mournfully. “But S.H.I.E.L.D. was thorough. I mean, if I didn’t have the notebook, I’d be better off picking a new project entirely.”

Thor shook his head resolutely. “You cannot quit,” he said. “You are smart, capable and dedicated. I know this appears to be a devastating loss, but I do not doubt your tenacity. You can do this. You will.”

She stopped, eyes wide as she watched him.

Feeling resolved, Thor nodded at her. “Now tell me what you need.”

“We’ll need to go to the store…,” Jane began.

“Oh!” Darcy chimed in from the couch. “Shopping trip! Let me! Let me!”

“I don’t know,” Jane hesitated.

“Please,” Thor said, keeping his gaze steadily on her. “You said I could help you. Even if this is not what you intended, let me help you. Lady Darcy and I will venture out to acquire your tools. You and Selvig may stay here and take full stock of everything you have and devise a formalized plan of attack. When we return, we can embark on our task with newfound organization and foresight.”

Jane stared at him.

Darcy whined, “You can’t object to organization and foresight. I mean, organization and foresight, Jane! All things geeky and science!”

Jane didn’t look away from Thor.

Thor was undeterred.

Finally, Jane sighed. “Oh, okay,” she said. “Let me make a list.”

-o-

List in hand, Thor departed proudly with Darcy. It was just as well, he thought, to be working with Darcy for a period. He could attune himself to her unique skills.

“So,” he said, looking uncertainly at the list. “What type of vendor will carry these items?”

“Um,” Darcy said. “That list is mostly gibberish, and this town basically has three stores. Since I’m pretty sure that’s not food or clothes, we’ll go to the hardware store.”

“Hardware?” Thor asked.

“Like, tools and stuff,” Darcy said. “You like hammers, right?”

Thor did his best not to show any emotions. “I have some skill with a hammer, yes.”

Darcy smiled broadly. “Then a hardware store is right up your alley.”

-o-

Darcy was most peculiar. She was unduly fond of her communication device, which Thor could only assume was used to transmit written messages since she hardly spoke into it. Her choice of conversation was far more diverse than Jane’s, though no less confounding. With Jane, he could at least make sense of her science with some of his own teaching back on Asgard, but Darcy was simply nonsensical.

“I’m serious, though,” she said. “Project Runway. We should completely send them your picture because you would be a unique design challenge. I mean, the size of your arms alone would blow their minds, and plus, for the record, I think you would look really good in some custom clothing. Not that you wouldn’t look good in anything, but also -- free clothes. I’m also looking for free clothes, and maybe they’d even pay for you to go to New York, which would be _awesome._ ”

Thor watched her. He had no idea what she was talking about, except for the clothing and the fact that he needed some. “I would be open to any such endeavors,” he said. “Perhaps you could assist me in acquiring clothing at a later time after we have helped Jane with her work.”

Darcy brightened. “Oh, I can do that,” she said. “I mean, some people might take you for a jock look, but I think we could pull of something else. Goth maybe? How do you feel about eyeliner?”

Thor tilted his head. “I feel as though I would be open to anything your culture deems relevant,” he said. “Tell me more.”

“Oh, I will,” Darcy said, grinning with a disconcertingly familiar mischievous glint in her eyes. “Don’t worry about that.”

-o-

By the time they were finished at the hardware store, Darcy had told Thor about popular music, how to use a pick-up line in a bar and the function of democracy.

“That is unheard of!” Thor said. “How does anything get done?”

“Well, right now, things really don’t get done,” Darcy admitted, letting Thor carry the large bags of supplies while she accepted Jane’s credit card back from the cashier. (“Electronic money,” Darcy had concluded. “Great to have, as long as someone else gets the bill.”)

“Then why is such mundane posturing permitted?” Thor asked incredulously. “Do you not have a mighty force to quell it?”

“Well, that would sort of go against the whole purpose of democracy,” Darcy said.

Thor shook his head, following Darcy out the door. “You live in a strange land.”

Darcy laughed. “Just wait until I explain reality TV.”

-o-

It was fascinating. The picture Darcy provided of the culture was vast and surprising. He had always known Midgard to be less developed, but the tales of idiocy for entertainment was a bit staggering. Clearly, Midgard was especially diverse, as was to be expected from a society much younger than his own. They lacked a coherent voice, and it would likely be millennia before they learned enough from their differences to forge a braver, stronger unity.

Yet even with the strange feats of nonsense Darcy seemed to extol, there was a simple virtue exemplified in the day to day interaction. Indeed, everyone had been straightforward and cordial, and there had been no posturing. In fact, not one incident of violence had broken out in his time amongst the people, save for his own misdeeds while trying to secure Mjölnir.

The stories had always painted Midgard to be not just simple, but somewhat barbaric. Thor had loved the stories, where the brutes had fallen before them in honor like they would a god, stayed from their own violent failings to realize they had been saved from their own inadequacies.

If some things seemed foolish from afar, they were far more practical in the day to day realities. Their government suggested an evolution toward idealism. It was written that Asgard had tried a similar form of government, lifetimes before Thor’s grandfather, Bor, had taken the throne to unite the people and protect the realms. Considering the small scope on Midgard, perhaps it was not such a daunting task.

And what was entertainment except one preference over another? Loki devoured books, loving solitary pleasures. Volstagg wanted nothing more than a feast. Fandral craved the company of beautiful maids, and Sif often loathed to leave the training fields.

Thor also found their limitations to be overstated. True, their science was not as advanced, but they wanted to learn. They strove to know more. The insatiable curiosity was a point in their favor, and it was a skill Thor had always lacked. Indeed, he’d been so taken with his insular world view that he’d failed to see reason from any side. He was the one who had charged blindly into Jotunheim and started a war before demeaning his father and earning the rejection of his birthright.

Thor had no place speaking of lesser beings.

For now, he was the least among his people. He was the least among _these_ people.

But that was the inherent power afforded to all on Midgard. For if they were lesser, then they still had a chance to grow. Their potential was untapped and unrealized. With enough effort, they might ascend still to the higher realms.

Thor had to believe that.

For himself as much as anything.

-o-

When they returned, Selvig was out of the bathroom and upright. Though he still appeared ill, he was assisting Jane with what appeared to be an organizational task.

“Hey!” Jane said excitedly. “You’ll never guess what I found!”

Most certainly, Thor would not. Unless she had found a way to get him back to Asgard, without Heimdall’s sight and against Odin’s explicit orders.

Oblivious, Jane continued. “One of my scanners!” She held up a device. “I mean, it’s smaller and older, but it still works. Honestly, I don’t even know why it’s still here other than the fact that someone stuffed it down one of the recliners. Like, literally, down the side. We wouldn’t have found it except that we were shifting the furniture and the thing just fell out.”

Thor put the bag on the table, attuned to her enthusiasm.

Darcy flounced over to one of the chairs. “Wait, was it in the green chair?”

“Yeah!” Jane said. “It’s such a stroke of luck!”

“Or, you know, laziness,” Darcy said.

“What?” Jane asked. “Wait, you put it there, didn’t you?”

Darcy shrugged, pulling out her phone. “It’s entirely possible.”

“You told me that you always put the equipment back where it belongs!” Jane said.

“And I thought it belonged in the chair,” Darcy said with a shrug.

Jane’s mouth fell open in indignation. “This equipment is hand built--”

“And it was beeping all the way through my favorite show,” Darcy said. “I tried to turn it off, but you disabled the off button!”

“Because I need 24 hours readings, Darcy,” Jane lectured.

“Well, that doesn’t do you much good when the batteries die,” Darcy countered.

“Because you put it down a chair!”

“I know!” Darcy replied. “So you’re welcome! Thanks to me, you have one working monitor. If you ask me, I more than earned my paycheck this week.”

Jane snorted.

Selvig rubbed his head.

Thor smiled, for the banter was familiar. Though there was disdain and indifference apparent, it was laden with a deeper affection. Thor knew this well, for it was often how he and Loki had been. Many things on Midgard were different, but the understated means of affection could be expressed in much the same way.

Moving forward, Thor nodded. “This is all well, then,” he said. “You have some equipment and we have brought the parts to build more. Surely we will have you research station functional in no time.”

Jane gave Darcy one last withering look. She took a breath, and nodded back at Thor. “It certainly is an optimistic turn of events.”

Being banished on Midgard, Thor thought an optimistic turn of events was very much the best news possible.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks to those who read chapter one, and continued thanks to g-rox-theninja for the ongoing beta effort and lena7142 for her consistent support in keeping me on track. This fic is the epitome of a slow build, so I hope it doesn't drag too much!

For Jane, optimism meant energy. She worked heartily throughout the morning, and by the early afternoon, Thor had learned the basic terms for most of the tools and a great deal of the parts. His understanding of the working parts and the forms of energy still left something to be desired, but he had seen Loki craft objects more complex than this in their youth.

By the mid-afternoon, Thor was able to do some of the basic construction himself, working steadily until his stomach rumbled noisily. Looking up at the time, he was surprised to see so many hours had past.

“Come, my friends,” he said, getting up and wiping his hands on his borrowed jeans. “We should break for food before our bodies grow weary.”

Darcy lifted her hand from the chair where she was supposed to be working on a simple filing system but was instead intensely playing some sort of game (application, Thor remembered, they were called applications) on her communication device (phone; cell phone to be precise, but such usage was considered dated). “I’m good!” she called. “Just broke out the M&M’s and iced tea.”

Thor watched as she poured small colorful bits into her hand and then dumped them in her mouth. Knowing better than to question, he looked to Jane and Selvig, who were involved in more complex work by the growing work station. “So the three of us,” he concluded.

Selvig made a face. “I’m still recovering from breakfast,” he said. “I’ll pass.”

“Very well,” Thor said. “Jane?”

She looked up, clearly distracted. “What?”

“Food,” Thor repeated. “You require sustenance.”

“Oh, no,” she said. “I’ve got coffee--”

Thor grew concerned. “Drink is insufficient--”

“We had way more breakfast than I’m used to,” Jane said. “I’m fine. Really.”

Thor stood, uncertain of how to proceed. He knew little of mortal bodies, but they were weaker and more fallible. They would require more precise maintenance in order to thrive.

And yet, this was an unknown culture to him. They clearly did not make as big of deal of meals as on Asgard, and it was probable that their portion sizes were significantly diminished.

In short, Thor had no basis by which to judge.

In his silence, Jane looked up with sudden realization. “But you can totally have something,” she said. “Just look in the fridge. Help yourself to whatever.”

Thor looked from Jane to the fridge. Then back again. He nodded, pleased with this acceptable compromise. “Very well, then,” he said. “I shall partake in food and rejoin you to continue working shortly.”

-o-

The food looked vaguely familiar, though strangely packaged. It was labeled and assigned strange values, which Thor could only assume was to communicate its nutritional value. The words were beginning to look familiar, but he would need to spend more time in dedicated study if he were to read their language in earnest.

_His_ language, he reminded himself. This was to be his tongue now.

Speaking of tongues, Thor’s had other interests at the time. Reading and studying could wait. Even if his companions seemed well suited to skip a meal, Thor was not accustomed to such practices and he very much desired a meal.

The options, however, were a bit daunting. The fruit was the most approachable, so he helped himself to a few bites -- and then a few more. Pleased, he took it all out and then tried what appeared to be vegetables. Then he chose a beverage -- and then a few more -- before looking for something more substantive.

Unfortunately, there was little resembling meat, though he found some oddly shredded cheese. There was a package of what appeared to be meat, but when he opened it, it looked foreign. Still, when he tasted it, it was satisfactory.

Thus well assuaged, Thor made himself a plate -- and then another -- and started to eat.

-o-

Thor was used to fine food in the halls of his father’s palace, but he found that Midgardian food was more than adequate. In fact, after the first two helpings, he found it quite satisfying. On his fourth helping, Darcy finally put her phone away and got up with a groan.

“You know, for all that science you do, you’d think you’d come up with an invention that can automatically get me a new Coke,” she muttered.

“That has nothing to do with astrophysics,” Jane explained from across the room.

“It does if you make it appear from space,” Darcy said.

“That’s impossible,” Jane said.

“Tell that to the demigod sitting in our kitchen,” Darcy said. She smiled at him on her way toward the food supply. “Can you tell us a way to make Coke appear out of thin air?”

“I do not know what Coke is,” Thor said.

“Um, well, you should,” Darcy said. “Here, let me get you--” She stopped short as she opened the fridge.

“Hey, um, wait,” she said. “What happened to the food?”

Jane scoffed. “I told you, we’re buying more fruit--”

“No, I mean, the food,” Darcy said. “There’s nothing left but eggs and ketchup.”

“But we just went to the store,” Jane protested, turning toward them. “Darcy--”

She stopped, too. As did Selvig.

And they all looked at Thor.

Jane closed her mouth and crossed over to the fridge. She looked inside and her mouth fell open again.

“You--” she turned, eyes wide.

Darcy laughed. “And I thought your performance at the diner was impressive.”

Selvig came closer with a frown. “With his body mass, it makes sense--”

“And the fact that he could be an alien,” Darcy said. Selvig glared at her. Darcy held up her hands. “Just saying!”

During their exchange, Thor felt suddenly self-conscious. He had not thought about the quantity. He had merely eaten until his stomach was full. There had never been a need to consider anything more.

After all, he was human now. He was lesser. His appetite may have been the same as it was, but his limits were not.

Hastily, Thor stood. “I apologize,” he said. “I was unaware that food was rationed--”

“It’s not rationed,” Jane said. “It just...we don’t usually eat everything in the fridge for a meal.”

“Of course,” Thor said. “So this is your only storage facility?”

Jane chewed her lip. “Yeah, pretty much,” she said. “And food is expensive--”

Thor felt himself blanch, his stomach churning uncomfortably.

Darcy came closer, patting him on the arm. “It’s okay,” she said. “I’ve been taking my pay in the form of food for a year now. I’m sure she won’t mind if you do the same. Though, really, this means I need a raise. Can I get a raise?”

Jane ran a hand through her hair. “No,” she said. “Because you need to go buy more food.”

Thor stepped forward toward Jane. “I am sorry--”

“This is new territory,” Jane said. “I just never expected someone capable of eating an entire package of deli meat in one sitting.”

“And a bag of cheese!” Darcy exclaimed.

“Great,” Jane said. She shook her head. “I think we’re going to need a bigger fridge.”

Selvig flattened his lips. “We’re going to need something, all right.”

Thor swallowed uncomfortably, looking down. Optimism, it seemed, was not meant for him after all.

-o-

His failure with the meal called lunch aside, Thor decided this was an apt occasion to learn about how food was procured. While some establishments made food to be consumed, Darcy took him to a merchant that sold food in its raw form.

Asgard had similar vendors, but they had foregone such excessive packaging a millennia ago. It seemed antiquated, but with reduced healing capabilities, Thor could see the value in packaging in terms of sanitation.

He also found that he liked the idea of aisles of food: aisles upon aisles upon aisles.

“The selection is most impressive!” Thor enthused. “What is this?”

“Cereal,” Darcy said, picking up a box with a diminutive man in green smiling at the bottom of a rainbow. “Or, in other terms, processed sugar.”

“Is it as delicious as coffee?”

Darcy snickered, getting another box. “Nothing is as delicious as coffee,” she said. “But Lucky Charms might just come close.”

-o-

By the time they finished going through every aisle, their cart was full. Darcy had directed them toward several necessities but she had been quite helpful in letting Thor pick items that interested him. The girl at the checkout area seemed impressed with their choices, and Thor smiled proudly. He would ensure there were no more failures when it came to food while he was relying on Jane’s generosity.

-o-

“You spent how much?” Jane exclaimed, as Thor carefully unloaded their purchases onto the counter.

“What?” Darcy said, putting her car keys down. “I couldn’t say no to him.”

“But you spent our entire grocery budget for the month in one trip!” Jane protested.

Selvig raised his eyebrows. “Something tells me you’re going to have to increase that budget,” he muttered.

Thor frowned seriously. “I did not realize we had constraints,” he said.

“Of course there are constraints!” Jane said. “Our grant has limited income, and we’ve been keeping it together so far, but without solid proof, we’re not going to get renewed, and S.H.I.E.L.D. took everything and damn it -- did you get Lucky Charms?”

Thor pulled out on of the boxes, presenting it to her in a conciliatory fashion. “You may have them all.”

“Hey!” Darcy objected.

“It is the least we can offer for our assumptive behavior,” Thor said. “Truly, Jane. I did not realize.”

Jane sighed, taking the box, somewhat mollified. “Well, we may have to adjust the budget,” she said. She smiled a little. “I do love Lucky Charms.”

“Wonderful,” Thor said. “Then, please, enjoy this for your meal and then we will get back to work.”

Her smile widened, and she shrugged. “Okay.”

“Tell me,” Thor said, continuing to unload bags. “What progress have you made?”

“Well,” Jane said, opening the box and shoveling a handful into her mouth. “We actually made great progress, and I think we can get some bare bones systems up and running by the end of the week, which means we just have to reestablish our patterns and we’d hardly be out anything at all.”

“That is wonderful news,” Thor said. “What more do we have to do?”

Thus engaged in the topic of her work, Jane prattled away. Thor understood parts, but for the time being, he could not help himself. He cared not about the science.

He just cared about her.

-o-

She ate absently, taking handfuls of food and chewing it while she worked. Errant pieces fell here and there, and Thor was quite curious about the colorful bits that Darcy called marshmallows. Tempted as he was to try a piece, he had promised Jane the box was hers, and that included her crumbs.

Moreover, Thor had other things to attend to.

Jane’s work was not as complex as Asgardian science, but the intricacies were still enough to give Thor pause. He was still learning critical terminology, but after several more hours, he felt increasingly confident in his ability to perform basic tasks to support Jane’s work.

As they labored, Thor also put together other relevant pieces of information. Life on Midgard was far more fleeting, which meant they dedicated a great deal of their time to work pursuits. Clearly, they had a diverse economic system, and it was not unlike the lower classes on Asgard where a duty had to be performed in order to receive payment.

However, jobs were much harder to secure on Midgard and, indeed, they were more tenuous. Jane was working off a limited thing called a grant, which, from what Thor could gather, gave her an allotted portion of money in anticipation of work completed. Jane would have to produce results and document ongoing progress in order to secure another such grant.

This troubled Thor, because Jane studied the stars. If her theories relied heavily on the effects of the bifrost upon this planet, then it would be unlikely for her to collect much more data from such occurrences. Ventures to Midgard were not overly popular on Asgard, but with news of Thor’s banishment, it was not improbable that travel restrictions would be placed.

In short, Thor had saved her work and equally doomed it. She was still studying the stars in a way that reached far beyond what he’d thought possible for Midgardians, but without evidence of the bifrost, her efforts would be severely impeded.

At times throughout the afternoon, he thought to tell her, but he found himself unable to find the words. What was he to say? Speaking of Asgard sounded like insanity to them, and if his new companions found him to be credible, he would only risk such belief by explaining the circumstances of his presence here.

Besides, he did not wish to speak of it. He had accepted his fate the previous night, and he would no longer fight it. He would not return to the hammer, and he would not call out to Heimdall in desperation. This was his own doing, and it was an apt punishment for a son as unworthy as he.

It would help no one to confess the truth. There was no reason to revisit his folly, and it would not stop Jane’s efforts anyway. No, she was determined, and no barrier would stop her. Jane aspired for the stars, and with her intellect and tenacity, Thor thought she might be successful.

She dreamed of the stars. Thor had seen them all and would possess them no longer.

No, he decided as he helped her work, the stars were now hers and hers alone.

-o-

Thor was uncertain about the normal Midgardian schedule, but they broke for dinner in the early evening. Everyone seemed more intent on this meal, making Thor assume this was the largest meal of the day. Large, however, was a relative assertion. Though it was more elaborate than the haphazard lunch hour, dinner was still a far less expansive feast than what Thor was used to on Asgard.

They cooked meat this time, something ground and unrecognizable. Jane referred to it as beef, derived from a cow. She added in something called Hamburger Helper, which made it taste sufficiently interesting if unusual. This main course was supplement by a salad and bread, and water was the drink of choice.

It was unusually reserved, which made Thor have a pang of longing for home. Though not every night was a feast, his father’s table was always full and the company was robust. This quiet, little meal was a far cry from that, and Thor could only think how far he had fallen.

Yet, there was a certain charm about it. Darcy talked of a date she was going on, which was apparently some type of informal courting ritual. When Jane questioned her choices, Darcy replied with plenty of examples in which her methods were extremely effective.

Jane then reminded her of instances to the contrary.

They argued, before recalling an unfortunate double date (where two couples attempted the same ritual), which ended in laughter. Selvig rolled his eyes.

“And I flew all the way out here for this?” he asked.

“Oh, like you’re not loving it,” Jane said. “You talk all the time about how limiting it is to be stuck in a classroom.”

“Sure, but I’m here for the science,” Selvig said. “And now I’ve got demigods falling out of the sky, and am listening to you two enact a season of the Bachelor!”

“Have you seen the Bachelor?” Jane asked.

Darcy shook her head. “He’s never seen the Bachelor. We were with _different men._ ”

Selvig threw up his hands. “Does it matter?”

“You are the one who is always telling me to have more of a social life,” Jane reminded him with a sage nod.

Selvig lifted his brows. “I’m not sure this is what I had in mind.”

Darcy snorted. “Because it’s so much better,” she said. “Hey, do we have any alcohol?”

“Oh,” Jane said. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea--”

Selvig shook his head. “It’s a good idea, Jane,” he said gruffly. “Trust me.”

-o-

The portions were limited, which Thor found interesting. He had not considered the lesser needs of lesser beings, but he quickly tried to quell such a thought. Lesser was not a judgment on their worth, but a representation of their needs. With a diminished autonomic response, their bodies would require different degrees of sustenance. They preferred three small meals, though “snacking” did seem appropriate. Thor was uncertain how his own digestion had been altered when he’d been divested of his Aesir form, but he found himself capable of stopping along with the rest of his companions as they finished.

After the food was gone (for indeed, they did eat until it was all consumed, given the small size), they seemed content to sit and drink. It was not a raucous celebration, but it reminded him somewhat of the family meals he’d shared with Loki and his parents growing up on Asgard. That had been important to his mother, who sometimes had dragged them all to the table against their will.

These people were not family, but they were gathered based on mutual goals and camaraderie. Thor had always taken those dinners for granted as a child, but he found the warmth of this company more acutely. It was a family by choice, and in a world where Thor had nothing and no one, he could not deny such a pleasure.

-o-

When the drinks all but tapered off, Jane naturally gravitated back toward her work station. Thor joined her, assisting her with some further tasks until Darcy turned on the device called a television loudly and announced, “Okay, seriously, it’s closing time.”

Jane shook her head. “I’ve almost got this thing done,” she said. “We just need to get some of the circuits updated so we can fine tune its detection pattern--”

“And blah, blah, blah, blah, blah,” Darcy said.

Jane huffed. “This is important. Our entire project is riding on this.”

“Uh, no,” Darcy said. “I’m pretty sure our entire project is running on _him_.” She nodded to Thor.

“That’s insane,” Jane said.

“I am afraid I have nothing to offer,” Thor said.

Darcy rolled her eyes and groaned. “It started with him, giant, god-like guy falling out of the sky. It’s going to come back to him,” she said. “And you’re not going anywhere, are you?”

Thor hesitated, looking from Darcy to Selvig to Jane. “For tonight, I am at your disposal,” he replied.

“See,” Darcy said.

Jane appeared a little flustered, and she met Thor’s eye just to look away. “Fine,” she mumbled, putting her work down. “I suppose a little down time isn’t so bad.” She looked up at him again, almost smiling. “I mean, it’s not like _all_ we do is work.”

Darcy lifted her chin, settling back on her chair as she raised the volume again. “Thanks to me.”

Jane rolled her eyes. “She’s exaggerating,” she promised Thor. She shrugged, sheepish. “Mostly.”

-o-

The entertainment was confounding, because though Thor understood the concept of acting and how the television worked, the choice of material seemed somewhat strange. Strangers were overtly suggestive, and the amount of kissing and relations displayed seemed indicative of baser natures.

(They were also strangely tame. If there was going to be explicit content, Thor did not see why it had to be so simple, but he did not feel it would be fitting to make such commentary.)

Reality TV was perhaps more entertaining than most other programming, if only that it involved feats of greatness. However, Thor was not sure how such feats related to anything pertinent in life, but given the average Midgardian’s lack of resiliency, he supposed simpler feats were safer to produce and manage. Though humans were oddly primitive in some ways, they were not barbaric. They had regard for safety, which would limit their quests for greatness based on personal concerns alone.

Jane worked on something called a crossword puzzle, and Selvig read a book. They each had another beer as the night went on. The conversation was light and easy, and when Selvig stood up with a yawn, Thor found himself surprised.

“It’s late,” Selvig said. “And we still have a lot of work to do.”

Thor glanced at the time. The hour still seemed young to him, but Jane got up, putting her paper aside. “Yeah, I do want to get a good start on things,” she said.

Darcy made a face. “Do we have to?”

“ _We_ have to do nothing,” Jane said, picking up the remote device to shut off the transmission. “But whatever you do, you’re doing at your own place.”

“But I don’t have cable,” Darcy whined.

“Neither do we,” Jane said. “How did you--”

“You don’t want to know,” Darcy said. “But why not? Why can’t I stay here?”

“Because Erik’s in the spare room, and Thor gets the couch,” Jane said.

“Why does Thor get the couch?” Darcy protested.

“Because he fell out of the sky and I hit him with a car. Twice,” Jane said. She looked apologetically at him. “I’m still sorry--”

“I didn’t do that,” Darcy muttered.

“But you tasered him,” Jane reminded her indignantly.

Darcy groaned, getting to her feet. “Fine,” she said. She jabbed a finger at Thor. “But much more of this, and I’m going to tase you again.”

“It is not my intention to be in the way,” Thor started.

“She’s kidding,” Jane assured him. She took Darcy by the arm and led her to the door. “Aren’t you?”

“No--”

“Yes,” Jane said. “Or I’ll fire you.”

“You don’t hardly pay me,” Darcy reminded her.

Jane pushed her out the door. “Even less incentive to start now,” she said, closing the door behind her before Darcy could protest again. She smiled. “There. So.”

Thor swallowed, standing awkwardly. “So.”

Jane nodded. “I guess that’s that.”

“I guess it is,” Thor agreed.

Selvig rolled his eyes, moving past them. “I call the bathroom.”

“Right,” Jane said. “So I’ll, um. See you in the morning.”

“Yes,” Thor said, doing his best to adapt to her usage. “I will see you in the morning.”

She grinned, tucking her hair behind her ear as she ducked out, and standing in the lab, Thor found he was all alone.

He looked to the empty room, the blank television screen, the quiet kitchen.

This was his life now.

Small empty rooms.

Blank quaint towns.

_Alone_.

He thought of Selvig and Darcy. He thought of Jane.

He smiled, despite everything.

Not so alone, then.

-o-

With few other garments to wear, Thor did not bother to change. He had been allotted a pillow and a blanket, which he gathered to the couch. Lying back, he picked up Jane’s paper and tried to make sense of the words. The letters were foreign to him, but he was able to recognize some patterns. He’d studied Midgard somewhat in his training, but he had never paid much attention to the linguistics. Still, he was able to start making sense of the alphabet; by making note of things he could identify, he started to grasp a basic phonetic awareness.

He was struggling with the written word when the door opened and Selvig came out. He was in more casual clothes (though that was all degrees of casual; Thor found Midgardians to wear decidedly strange garments). He looked at Thor, and nodded as if to keep walking, when he hesitated.

“There’s an extra toothbrush in there,” Selvig said. “I left it on the counter. I realized you probably don’t have one.”

“Thank you,” Thor said. “It is important to maintain hygiene, although your methods are strange.”

“Well,” Selvig said. “It’s there.”

There was another awkward silence, and then Selvig sighed. “So, you’re talking like you’re staying.”

Thor swallowed, feeling somewhat chagrined. “I know what I promised,” he said. “And if you still wish me to leave, I understand and will do what I can to oblige.”

Selvig sighed. “Not much point in that now.”

“But last night you said--”

“Last night we both said a lot of things,” Selvig said. “Today’s a new day. And you make her happy. You motivate her. I don’t trust much, but I do trust that.”

Thor smiled. “Thank you.”

“Well, I’m not doing it for you,” Selvig said, making his way to the bedroom.

He watched Selvig disappear and nodded contentedly to himself. It wasn’t about him. It was about Jane.

Thor could live with that.

-o-

With Selvig in the other room, Thor attempted to ready himself for sleep. In the bathroom, he discovered the contraption intended for his teeth and made a logical guess about the strange paste nearby. It tasted foul, however, so he spit it out, and then relieved himself and left.

In the main room, he dimmed the lights and attempted to get comfortable. For a while, he did what he could with the paper before finally putting it aside and looking at the ceiling. Sleep did not usually elude him, but then, he was not usually human. The last few days had been busy, but now there was a lonely sense of inevitability that made the seconds ticking by seem painfully long.

For this was all there was. There was no real hope in the morning.

What did sleeping gain him?

What did anything gain him?

What was his father doing? How did his brother fare? Were his friends off to war? How many people had suffered for his insolence?

How many days would pass before people forgot think of him? Did anyone miss him or was he only regarded with scorn?

He would never know.

-o-

After an hour or so, Thor sat up. He paced through the room, looking over the equipment. He considered doing minor repairs in an attempt to help Jane, but he feared he would do more harm than good without direct feedback.

Sighing, he looked outside, but he did not think wandering the streets of a Midgardian city would be especially wise if he was trying to acclimate himself to their culture. Instead, he remembered the stairs up the back of the building.

The roof.

The stars.

Jane said she went there when she could not sleep.

At this point, it was worth a try.

-o-

When he got to the roof, he took a deep breath and crossed to the seats. He considered starting a fire, but he realized he had no means. The air was brisk, but it mattered not. Lying back, he stared up.

The stars were different, and yet so much the same. Looking up, he could almost imagine himself back home.

Except it was so far away. 

The galaxies were vast, and Thor had never appreciated the distance when he’d been so free to travel amongst them. The privileges he’d had, to come and go. To _be_.

He was so limited here. To see the endless expanse and not to be able to touch it. To strive and always fall short. The curse of mortality.

His curse--

“Oh, hey.”

Thor startled, looking to the side. He sat up, flushing red as he saw Jane. “Jane,” he said. “I did not realize--”

“No,” she said. “I mean, you’re more than welcome to come up here.”

“If I had known you needed the space to think--” he began.

“No, no,” she said again, coming closer. “Looks like you’ll be staying here for a while, so you can come up here whenever you want.”

Thor smiled faintly. “I fear I am already an imposition.”

“Darcy is my lab assistance and Erik lives in my spare room,” Jane said, coming around closer. “You’re not any more of an imposition than them.”

“They are useful to your work,” Thor said.

Jane sat down. “And so are you,” she said. She hesitated. “You know, Darcy was right earlier.”

Thor tilted his head.

“This did start with you,” Jane said. “I mean, I always had theories -- so many crazy theories -- but I couldn’t get any readings to support them over any substantial period of time. I was chasing phantoms until you showed up. Without the readings that culminated that night in the desert, I would have quit.”

Thor frowned. “Quitting is not becoming of your nature.”

“Theories need to be tested. There have to be results,” Jane said with a shrug. “I had nothing. At least, until you.”

“You have lost your research now, thanks to me,” Thor pointed out.

“But I know that I’m right,” she said. “And with what you’ve told me, I know there’s still plenty to discover. I can rebuild it. _We_ can rebuild it. And it’s all thanks to you.”

Tentative, Thor wet his lips. “If my presence has helped you in any way, then my existence has meaning.”

The words were heavy on his tongue, thick in his throat. He knew the implications better than she. Beneath this sky, Thor was too aware of what he had lost and how bleak his future was. He’d been heir to the throne, set to inherit the most powerful kingdom in all nine realms.

Now, he was forsaken and anonymous, living on a lesser planet. Divested of his powers and might. He had forfeited the things that mattered most, the things that had defined him. He had been a warrior.

Here, he was nothing.

But if his selfishness and brashness could help Jane, then perhaps it was not all for naught.

She smiled, laughing a little before looking at him shyly. “So, um, does that mean you’re going to stay? Like, really stay?”

Thor held her gaze. “Do you wish me to stay?”

“Yeah,” she said. She nodded readily, smile growing. “Yeah, I do.”

“Very well,” he said. “Then I will stay.”

She almost laughed at that. “Good,” she said. “I mean, I think it’s good. It’s good, right?”

Thor wanted to smile -- for to see her smile was happiness -- but he could not help but feel a pang of regret. He faltered, if only for a second.

Jane noticed. “Hey,” she said. “I know it’s probably hard--”

Thor shook his head. “I am fine.”

“No,” she said. “I mean, you act fine, and you’ve been so helpful, but if what you told me is true--”

“I would not lie to you,” Thor vowed.

“I know,” Jane said. “At least, I think I do. But falling from the sky. Talk of other realms. An entire life that I can’t even imagine that’s just _gone._ You don’t think you’re going back anymore, do you?”

Thor had made no intention of telling her this, for indeed, he did not wish to elicit her pity. He was Thor, once heir to the throne of Asgard, and he had never needed pity before, and he did not want for it now. Yet, his determination to go home during his early days on Midgard could not have been mistaken any more than his seeming acceptance of his fate now. He attempted a small smile. “It does not matter.”

“But it does,” she said. “It’s like, you’ve changed. I know that sounds silly since I hardly know you, but you’re different now.”

“You speak the truth,” Thor said quietly. “It is hard to explain such a dramatic change, but I am not the man I was even a day ago. And I regret many things, but please know that meeting you is never counted among them.”

Jane nodded. “Do you want to talk about it? What happened with the hammer last night?” she asked, tentatively. “I mean, if you’re Thor, if that’s your hammer--”

He shook his head, throat suddenly feeling tight. “It is no longer my hammer, and whatever legends your people have of me are no longer mine to claim,” he said. “I have left my past behind.”

“But why?” Jane asked. “Aren’t there are other ways back? Are more of your people coming? Is there any way we can validate that what you’re telling me is true?”

“I am afraid not,” Thor said. “Your science is your only salvation, and I am useless to you.”

“It sounds crazy, though--”

“Then perhaps I am crazy,” Thor supplied.

She let out a breath, catching herself in disbelief. “You can’t mean that.”

“Jane,” he said, lowering his voice as he sat forward. “I am as much use to you as a mad man. You are better off to send me away and never to see me again.”

Her brow furrowed. “Now _that’s_ crazy.”

“I am a burden of my own making,” he began.

“You fell out of the sky and I hit you with a car,” Jane said. “You’re everything.”

“I have little more I can offer you,” he said.

She squared her shoulders, tossing her head slightly. “Well, then, I’ll just have to get the science to prove it all over again,” she said. “And if you can’t get home, maybe I can help you get there.”

It was foolish, really. Her ambition was blind and passionate. Yet, he could not bring himself to doubt her, even if the task was monumental. He had been that way once, when no obstacle had ever seemed too large to overcome. But where he had approached such things carelessly, she had the wisdom and the ability to do so with great success. What he understood of her science was far more advanced than he’d ever imagined for Midgard.

To think, he had nothing to offer these mortal, and yet they could offer him everything.

His smile widened, and he nodded. “Very well, then,” he said. “We shall see.”

“Yes,” she said, clearly somewhat proud. “I think we will.”

-o-

That night, Jane told him of her latest theories, and he watched the sky with fresh eyes. For now, he saw not his limitations but her possibilities, and it was good.

He fell asleep first, dozing off with his face turned up to the starlight, sleeping long and hard throughout the night.

-o-

Thor woke with the sun.

He refused to look back.

-o-

Fortunately, there was plenty to do. After observing breakfast for another few days, he decided to try it on his own. Within a week, he was making breakfast every morning, learning about the appropriate spices and expected serving sizes. Meat was not commonly served at breakfast, which was a bit of an adjustment, but he quickly adapted his diet to support a balanced meal for the human anatomy.

Human, he trained himself. These were humans; he was human. This was Earth, not Midgard anymore.

When he found the meal insufficient, he began to supplement with Pop Tarts and other highly caloric snacks, all of which were affordable and conveniently had nutritional information listed on the package. He also learned about budgeting, and found himself decently adept at living within a means, though Jane started to give him cash instead of her credit card for daily use.

She did take him to a store one afternoon -- Darcy had wanted to come, but Jane had insisted -- and had him try on several garments. They found several that were acceptable, and one that Jane said made him look very nice, and Thor found himself pleased. The jeans and t-shirts, as they were called, were rougher than the soft fabrics of home, but forgoing the armor was strangely liberating. Sometimes he missed his cloak, but Jane allowed him to indulge with something called a poncho, which she said looked ridiculous, but he was permitted to wear it about the lab.

Because of her kindness, he tried his best to be an asset to her work situation. As he gained more knowledge of the terms and concepts, he was able to offer more support. Within a week, she had basic monitors in place, and Thor surprised her by being able to read and write in her native language.

With monitors in place, data collection began, and Thor watched her focus intensify. Selvig seemed reinvigorated. Even Darcy was more disciplined. Things were happening. It was not war; it was not matters of the kingdom. But it was a purpose. It had meaning.

And Thor was part of it. He learned. He grew. He adapted.

Thor lived.

-o-

The days were busy, full of work and errands. Jane became immersed, and she and Selvig sometimes rambled in technical terms Thor could not quite grasp. He did his best to predict her needs, and he soon found himself the bearer of common sense. He cooked meals when they forgot. He made sure everyone had their fruits and vegetables. He emptied the garbage when it started to overflow. When the toilet was messy, he discovered the proper cleaning tools to make it acceptable once again.

He took turns monitoring the equipment. He installed new satellites on the roof. He retrieved the mail and did the grocery shopping. Thor was never wanting for something to do.

Even if Thor was always wanting.

-o-

Day after day, Thor found very few moments to himself. Earth was singular in this way, defined by a frenetic pace he could not quite grasp. Although they were millennia behind Asgard, their advancement came furiously and with no restraints or second thoughts. No one measured advancement against the tried and true ways of the past. Tradition was more of an afterthought to the potential of what might be.

Indeed, this was a trait amongst the bright and the dull. Puente Antiguo was a small town by Earth standards, and yet they were just as chaotic in their daily lives as the larger cities that Thor had seen depicted on the television. The people, no matter how small and insignificant their lives were, never seemed to stop. The tasks did not even need to be worthy; they simply had to be.

Jane always had another project. Selvig had another theory. Darcy had another song to download. The list of things to do never ended, and Thor found the constant need for innovation almost exhausting. No one on Midgard was ever satisfied. They believed that they needed to break new boundaries, as though they realized how short their lives were and sought to fill every moment with as much as they possibly could.

Thor kept pace well, all things considered, but he found he enjoyed the quiet times most. In the evenings, when Jane finally put her work away, there was time to eat and drink and talk. Darcy introduced him to music and more television programs. He learned card games from Selvig, and Jane showed him Sudoku after he failed miserably at crosswords. He was capable with math, but he’d never had the patience for it.

Now, though, he had patience for many things.

Besides, he liked the way Jane sat next to him, muttering the answers under her breath. Sometimes, he jotted the wrong answer just to see how long it took before she corrected him.

He liked the way she apologized.

Thor found, however, he liked many things.

-o-

The days were busy, and Thor liked that, but he loved the nights more.

The nights were quiet and dark, underneath the stars.

The nights were Jane.

She told him of her theories, and he told her of the realms. He talked of far off lands and strange beasts. He told her of foreign customs and ancient cultures. He talked of growing up in the house of Odin and riding across the rainbow bridge, to wherever fate may lead him.

“You’re crazy,” she laughed, shaking her head as the fire burned low between them. “You’re actually crazy.”

He chuckled, looking up at the stars another moment more. “Possibly,” he confessed.

She reached over, shoving him playfully. “Yeah, well.”

“What?” he protested with a laugh.

She grinned. “We’re all crazy here,” she said, tweaking her eyebrows. “Welcome to Earth.”

-o-

Thor did not notice the passage of time -- days and weeks seemed strange to him yet for reasons he could not explain -- but Jane seemed keenly aware of it.

“I got it!” she said, running into the lab one day. “I got it, I got it, I got it!”

Darcy flopped over on the couch, looking at Jane upside down. Selvig glanced up from his work station. Only Thor crossed toward her, curious at the letter clutched in her hand. “What did you get?”

“The grant,” she said, eyes bright with excitement. She waved the letter. “We got the grant!”

Prior to his arrival on Earth, Thor had never heard of such a term. Now, however, he knew about grants in great detail for he had let Jane tell him about them and the extensive application procedures to procure one. He knew how valuable grants were for scientific progress; he knew how hard she had worked.

Mostly, he could see how excited she was.

“That is great news!” he said.

“Wait, we already got word?” Selvig asked, getting up.

“Wait, does this mean I’m going to get paid again?” Darcy asked.

“Yes and yes and yes,” Jane said. She held the letter out to Selvig. “They were impressed with the data, and they want more. A _lot_ more.”

Selvig frowned, reading it over. “These things usually take months to come back,” he said. His eyes started to widen. “How did we get it back in a week?”

“I have no idea, but I’m not going to second guess them,” Jane said. “I mean, our proposal was always good, and with the calculations from the last anomaly that Thor recovered from S.H.I.E.L.D., it must have been enough to really get some attention.”

“But a _week_ ,” Selvig said.

“And I’m going to get paid, right?” Darcy asked.

“Sure, sure. I mean, they’re going to give us money to rebuild our sensors -- we should be able to double our capacity,” she said. “And if we can boost our signal, our data will be that much more refined and who knows what we’ll be able to see. The possibilities are endless!”

Endless. On Earth things seemed so finite.

But Jane’s enthusiasm -- it was hard to deny.

In fact, it was impossible.

“Indeed,” he said, beaming at her. “We should celebrate.”

Darcy sat up. “Oh, celebrate? I can do that.”

Thor rubbed his hands together. “Excellent,” he said. “How do we start?”

-o-

On Asgard, Thor had been fond of celebrations. The feasts in his father’s house were nothing short of spectacular, full of good food, good music and good company. The delicacies never ended, and there was no shortage of mead. Thor had spent countless nights in celebration, marking victories in battle or feats of bravery amongst his companions, not stopping until sleep finally beckoned him after days.

The best meat was brought forth; the finest mead was presented. Mountains of fruit sat freshly picked, and the kitchen produced fresh delights for as long as the revelry continued. Refined singers charmed the crowds, and verbose storytellers composed the poems to be recorded for the annals of history within Odin’s vaults.

There was raucous laughter, punctuated by the sound of broken glass against the floor. Some celebrations lasted for days, some weeks. The Aesir were long lived, and when battles took their toll, they relished their victory with a proclamation of life so extolled that no one in all nine realms would ever mistake it.

A trip to the diner, by comparison, seemed somewhat anticlimactic.

Still, considering Thor’s understated life over the last several weeks, he found heart to be jubilant.

“Please,” he said as he looked at the menu. “What do you recommend as your best selection?”

The waitress shrugged. “The roast beef’s not bad.”

Thor nodded. “Very good,” he said. “We will have one of those, along with your most excellent hamburgers and fries.”

“Oh, and extra cheese,” Darcy said.

“Most certainly,” Thor said. “And I would very much like to try the mozzarella sticks.”

Selvig grunted. “Might as well order all the appetizers at that rate.”

“A sampler, maybe,” the waitress suggested.

“Yes,” Thor said. “A sampler of the appetizers, hamburgers and fries for us and the most respectable Lady Jane will receive your delectable roast beef.”

Jane laughed, blushing. “What the hell,” she said. “I haven’t had a delectable roast beef in years. And you know what? Milkshakes for dessert. All around.”

The waitress put her pad away. “Okay, then,” she said. “Must be some sort of a celebration.”

Thor beamed, looking at Jane. She beamed back. “Yeah,” she said. “It really is.”

-o-

Lunch was satisfying. When the rest of his companions could eat no more, Thor finished off their food for them. After Jane paid the bill, she took them to the hardware store with explicit instructions that every scientific whim would be indulged.

Thor had no such whims, but he was quite capable of carrying the larger items as needed.

Back at the lab, Jane set right to work, but Darcy started texting on her phone. Selvig sat down heavily on the couch. When Jane protested, he looked at her disarmingly. “We ate our entire weeks’ worth of calories in one meal,” he said. “I think the grant is good news, but I’m not getting up off this couch until tomorrow.”

“If you wish to work, I will help,” Thor said.

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” Jane said. “You can watch TV with Erik--”

“It would be my pleasure,” Thor assured her. “This celebration is for you, after all. If you wish to continue your work, then I support you in that choice.”

She gave him a funny look, but still grinned. “Well, okay,” she said. “We do sort of have a lot to do.”

Thor looked at the pile of new purchases. “Then tell me where to begin.”

-o-

Jane was relentless. She pursued her task with the tenacity of a warrior in battle. Indeed, she was as fierce as the Lady Sif.

As lovely, too.

Not that either thought was appropriate or relevant, and Thor kept his attention where it needed to be. With Jane’s leadership, they were able to rewire several current devices before starting construction on several others. Thor still struggled with typing on the computer, but he had learned the necessary keystrokes for the basic programs Jane needed, so he was able to start initiating the recording process.

Selvig fell asleep on the couch: Darcy waved goodbye as she left.

As Thor helped Jane set up another receiver on the roof, he was prepared to go back down when he saw that she had stopped, eyes turned up to the sky.

“Is something wrong?” Thor asked.

Jane startled a little, looking back at him. “What? No,” she said. “The opposite, actually.”

Thor tilted his head inquisitively. “This is amazing,” she said. “I lost some of my data, but this set up is beyond what I had before S.H.I.E.L.D. stepped in. With this grant, I’m set up for years. In less than a month, all my theories are this close to being proven, and my entire operation is on firmer ground than it ever has been. This isn’t just amazing; it’s spectacular. I don’t even know how to describe it. I literally have gotten _everything_ I want.”

It was something to see her, standing in front of him. Beneath the stars, she was bathed in the moonlight, somehow awestruck and awe-inspiring at the same time. She had achieved much as a mortal, and in the short years of her life, her accomplishments seemed to be worth more than anything Thor had gained in his countless years on Asgard. Humans were like candles, burning hard and short, but with the brightest light Thor could ever imagine.

Thor had once thought himself better than these people. But he was not Jane Foster’s equal. He was nothing compared to her.

He was nothing at all.

Smiling, he moved forward a step. “You deserve it.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she said.

“You could have, and you would have,” Thor told her. “You think too much of me.”

Her smile fell somewhat, brows pulling together slightly. “And you think too little of yourself.”

Thor couldn’t help but chuckle. “I doubt that.”

Jane stepped closer to him, crossing the distance between them readily. She stopped just shy of him, hesitating just for a moment. “I don’t,” she told him, looking up at him. “And trust me, I doubt everything else, but I don’t doubt that.”

Thor didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to do. The empty feeling in the pit of his stomach felt suddenly warmer and full, and his throat felt tight as he smiled. “Thank you,” he said.

Her grin widened. “Any time.”

-o-

With the grant, Jane went from passionate to relentless. She hardly slept, and it was all Thor could do to keep her properly hydrated and decently fed. The more focused she became, the less Thor could actually help her. Though he was adept with the basic technology, the advanced calculations still eluded him, and he found that he was in the way more often than he was helpful.

So he took to other tasks. He had learned to read shortly after his arrival on Midgard, and he put that skill to good use. By studying every cookbook he could find, he soon mastered cooking. He tried new meals and found he had a flair for preparing feasts. He learned how to clean and do laundry, and he very much enjoyed sorting the whites and colors, and he often hung them to dry on the roof, like colorful banners in the New Mexico skyline.

Soon, Jane trusted him to run errands on his own. When given a list and a strict budget, he was better fit for the job than Darcy. He knew all the aisles at the grocery store, and still found himself fascinated by the number of choices. Once, he spent the better part of the afternoon simply reading the ingredients on all the cake mixes in an attempt to understand the difference. He liked taking the long way around town, enjoying his time in the sun. It was hot there, and sometimes he craved the familiar smell of rain, but the heat was a welcome contrast to his last, fleeting memories of Jotunheim.

Cleaning was less glamorous, but more invigorating. He took the presence of scum and dirt personally, for it had no place in the kitchen or bathroom. In his mind, it was like waging war with the worst beast in the galaxy, and he relished experimenting with new weapons. Jane told him bleach was abrasive, and indeed Thor did ruined one pair of jeans in his quest, but he found the skill it took to wield such a powerful potion was a worthwhile feat.

He also found that his companions were absent minded and kept poor house. The mail was rarely retrieved in a timely fashion, and it often stacked up in odd corners. The dishes were insufficiently organized, and it was possible to streamline the cabinets in order to make finding necessary items more readily.

There was more, as well. The lab had plenty of windows, but they were poorly washed, so Thor polished them until they gleamed. He found the exterior to be lonely and unsightly, so he purchased several planters just because.

“Thor,” Jane said when she found him sorting through recycling and trash. “What are you doing?”

“I was told that recycling is an important service provided by this township and we have done a poor job of sufficiently contributing to it.”

“Yeah,” Jane said. “But--”

“But this is your planet, Jane,” Thor said, quite seriously. “We should not take it for granted.”

Darcy clucked her tongue. “Look what you’ve done to him,” she said. “First you hit him with a car. Now you’ve made him domestic.”

“I am perfectly content,” Thor promised.

“He needs a hobby,” Darcy said, eyebrows raised as Thor put another plastic jug into the recycling bin.

“Yeah,” Jane said. “For once, I think I’m going to have to agree with Darcy.”

-o-

Darcy gave him an old iPod and a gift card for iTunes. Erik explains the rules of football and baseball. Jane buys him a membership to the local YMCA.

“Trust me,” she said with a smile.

-o-

Earth music was fast paced and chaotic. It wasn’t until he listened to it in greater quantities that he began to make sense of what he liked and what he did not like. Some of the instrumental tracks reminded him vaguely of Asgard, but when Darcy showed him the songs considered to be hard rock, he found himself making sense of the odd beats and strange melodies.

The instruments clashed and the vocals raged, sounding not unlike the wild tremors of a thunderstorm. He was surprised by the number of titles with references to things he knew something of, and listening to his own history being treated like a myth was surreal at first.

But maybe it made sense.

Maybe it had been a myth.

Maybe the rest had been a dream.

This was real, though.

So Thor turned up the volume, and didn’t look back.

-o-

Sports were easier than music, and it did not take more than a few hours before Thor was cheering voraciously. Though the rules were somewhat elusive to him, the spirit of competition was always easy enough for him to understand, and ESPN became his new favorite channel.

Erik told him of team loyalty, and when he learned of a team called the Vikings, he could hardly wait to see what this sport called football was all about.

It was something to look forward to, at any rate.

-o-

Though Thor liked music and sports, he valued Jane’s gift the most. This was not merely sentimental, but an essential part of whom he was. On Asgard, he had spent a great deal of time in training. The thrill of battle was not the only thing he’d liked about such a lifestyle. He enjoyed competition, and he enjoyed pushing the limits of his endurance. He liked physical activity, for it was enlivening.

The workout facilities here were not overly impressive. The machines looked nothing short of barbaric, but it would seem that there would be few opportunities to practice swordsmanship. Thor would take what he could get. The young man who worked there explained the purpose of each contraption, but Thor was too embarrassed to admit that he possibly needed more guidance. Therefore, he attempted to discretely test the equipment, pressing the buttons experimentally as he attempted to figure them out without further humiliation.

The elliptical machine required strange movements that felt unduly awkward, but he liked the treadmill once he learned how to regulate the speed. He liked the feeling of his pounding heart, for it did burn inside him more intensely than on Asgard. Perhaps there was something in the atmosphere; perhaps it was his lesser human physiology. Maybe it had just been so long since anything had spurred his mood in such a way.

And then there were the weights.

While the machines were overly complicated, he quickly mastered them all. He liked the challenge of adding more weight, seeing what he could bear. Other patrons at the facility soon took to watching him, whispering in curiosity as he easily handled the larger numbers. It wasn’t as effortless as it had been on Asgard.

That was probably Thor’s favorite part.  
__  
The challenge.  
  
It seemed like another lifetime since he’d experienced the elation of victory. Lifting the most weight of anyone in the facility was meager by comparison, but Thor found he didn’t care.

For they cheered him on so, and they bought him Gatorade and saluted him with energy bars.

It was very good, indeed.

-o-

With these new hobbies, Thor developed a new routine. He woke early, getting up with the sun to venture to the gym. After an intense workout, he got back in time to make breakfast, which was ready by the time the rest of his companions got out of bed. He spent another hour or so cleaning up, before running whatever errands needed to be accomplished. The rest of his time was divided amongst assisting Jane or cleaning the house.

He started to use his iPod more, and though he often turned the television to its muted setting for Jane’s sake, he could not help but watch baseball games in the afternoon.

Though he still stayed up late, often with Jane on the roof, Thor slept heavily now, barely blinking once up at the stars before he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was no more than a week later when Thor first noticed the men. Though they were dressed casually, it was easy to see they did not belong. Thor knew the people of this town, and he knew the look of the weary travelers who stopped here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope this isn’t getting too long winded – especially since there’s a lot more to go. Ongoing thanks to g-rox-theninja, who really has helped me a ton on this monstrosity of a fic! Also, to those reading, thank you for the encouragement. It means a lot :)

Thor did not intend to seek out company, but it was inevitable. Although he was still wary of some Earth customs, Thor was a social man. He liked people, and as he grew more comfortable on Earth, it was hard not to say hello.

After all, there was a comfortable familiarity in the town of Puente Antiguo. People worked their jobs, day after day, and though the tasks seemed menial, Thor knew his own daily routine was certainly not auspicious. In some ways, it was comforting to see the man called Jerry behind the cash register at the hardware store. He liked to walk by the woman named Tina at the supermarket. Rick and Eddie were good companions at the workout facility, and he very much liked exchanging pleasantries with Ella as they crossed paths at the diner.

And he did not know why the young woman at the post office smiled at him so much, but Thor always smiled back.

Yet, he did not know quite how to proceed. When Jerry commented on his purchases, Thor smiled and replied honestly that Jane had many unique needs. Tina was always keen to remind him of sales on his favorite items, and he was always effusive in his thanks when she told him about the latest flavors of things like Pop Tarts and soda. Rick and Eddie were good sources of information about sufficient human hydration and how to properly structure a diet with proteins, and he found Ella liked to talk in great detail about the latest weather developments, a topic which Thor found he was quite knowledgeable.

However, after a month, he found that his new acquaintances were asking more questions. About where he came from and why he was here. Some assumed he was a scientist; others seemed to think he had some other connection to Jane or perhaps Darcy. They seemed a bit surprised that his name was Thor, but many told him it suited him. But when they asked for additional details, Thor hesitated.

Should he tell them he was of Asgard? Should he talk of his father, the king, or his brother and his comrades? Should he tell them of the war he started and the disgrace he brought his family? Should he point to the stars and explain the great conflicts brewing, ones that Thor could only hope would be squelched by his father’s might before they had a chance to meet this realm?

What age should he report? What schooling should he share? Thor did not enjoy lies -- no, his brother had been much more adept with them -- and Thor grew increasingly flustered and confused.

“I have no ill will against these people,” Thor explained to Jane, Selvig and Darcy at dinner one night after Ella wanted to know his birthdate. “It seems rude to offer them untruths for such genuine interest.”

“If it helps, I’ve been telling people the truth all along,” Darcy said. “All those pics I post totally use the tag _god of thunder_.”

Jane glared at her. “Well, it’s not that simple--”

“It’s really not,” Selvig said. “We barely got Thor out of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s custody in the first place. We make too much noise and they may take him back.”

“I have nothing I can offer them--”

“Like that will stop them,” Jane muttered. “But it’s not just S.H.I.E.L.D. It’s just how it sounds. Most people will think you’re crazy.”

“Wait, we don’t think he’s crazy?” Darcy asked.

“And those who don’t will start a conspiracy out of it,” Selvig said with a shake of his head. “You don’t want to go around claiming that you’re an alien from an advanced race.”

“The truth is the only viable explanation, though,” Thor said. “Lies would be self-seeking.”

“I’m not really big into lies,” Jane said, “but I think Erik’s right. If people actually believe you are Thor, the god of thunder -- then all this changes.”

Thor frowned. “What would change?”

“Well, I mean, it wouldn’t be impossible to back up with data,” Jane said. “The convergence spike and the images we took--”

“I still don’t know why S.H.I.E.L.D. let him leave with me in the first place,” Selvig said.

“I am useless to them,” Thor said. “The truth is nothing but a cautionary tale--”

“Thor,” Jane said, sitting forward and looking at him intently. “You may think of coming here as falling from grace or something like that -- I don’t know, you don’t really talk about it -- but people here, they wouldn’t think that. If people believed you, if they really thought you were a fallen god, they would never leave you alone. People would interrogate you; people would accuse you of things; they would make fun of you.”

“And if they didn’t, they’d probably just laugh at you,” Darcy said. “Either way, it does sound kind of sucky. Especially since the toilet would get nasty again if you left.”

Jane rolled her eyes, reaching forward to place her hand on Thor’s. “You said you’re never going back, right?”

Thor swallowed, feeling vaguely ill. “I see no viable means of return.”

“Then this isn’t a lie,” she said. “It’s a reinvention. A rebirth.”

“Oh!” Darcy said, getting excited. “Does this mean we can do a makeover?”

“In a way,” Jane said. “We’ll need to work out the details together, because more questions are going to come up.”

“I do not wish to implicate anyone else in any fraud,” Thor said.

Jane smiled reassuringly. “That’s what friends do.”

Darcy nodded sagely. “Yep,” she said. “Friends totally lie for friends and help them reinvent their entire backstory to avoid them from being take into government custody and accosted by reporters for the rest of their lives.”

Jane closed her mouth.

Thor looked distressed.

Selvig groaned. “I’m going to regret this even more than I already do.”

-o-

It was somewhat reassuring that his friends found his situation as vexing as he did.

It was also somewhat disconcerting to know that it was, indeed, a problem that could threaten his long term happiness or the well-being of his very generous friends. Over the last month, Thor had discovered himself to be adept at a great many things, but as they brainstormed possible solutions to the question of his identity, he was reminded just how dependent he was on them.

He had no way to navigate these issues. He was wholly dependent on them. Thor, who had been a god, the greatest of all Odin’s warriors, was counting on three mere mortals for the most basic needs in his life.

This humiliation would have been more bothersome were he not hampered with the nagging fear that he was simply more trouble than he was worth to them. If they asked him to leave, he would, but after his time here, he found the notion of leaving to be troublesome.

“You’re sure,” Selvig said, looking at him again. “You have no form of identification.”

Jane rolled her eyes. “If he comes from another planet--”

“We still don’t know that for sure,” Selvig said.

“Do you really think he’s still crazy?” Jane asked.

“Maybe a weird brain injury from when you hit him with the car,” Selvig replied.

“He’s fine,” Jane replied indignantly.

“Maybe when I tased him,” Darcy added.

“He’s _fine_ ,” Jane said. “Are we really going to run around this again? He came out of the anomaly. He knows things he shouldn’t know.”

“So the only logical conclusion is that he really is an alien?” Selvig asked.

“You have to be willing to entertain all scenarios in science,” Jane said. “The evidence fits.”

Selvig sighed. “But there is no evidence. We just have a man with no paperwork or verifiable history who showed up in the desert.”

“You don’t trust him?” Jane asked.

“This isn’t about trust, Jane,” Selvig said. He looked apologetically at Thor. “We just need to be sure here. Just think about the other possibilities. If there is a head injury; if he’s had some sort of other trauma; if he’s created some history for himself -- there could be people out there, Jane. People who are looking for _him_ right now. If we make the choice to go ahead with a false identity, there’s no telling who we might be cutting off.”

Jane’s eyes turned to him, flashing with guilt.

Thor shook his head, unwilling to sit idle anymore. “There is no one looking for me,” he said. “There will be no one coming for me. I do not ask you to believe my history, but please know I have every intention of staying here.”

“Thor,” Selvig said. “Think about what you’re saying. Whether you’re really the god of thunder or just a man looking for a new start, if we make this decision and go ahead with it, you’ll be closing the door on the past. You’ll choose a story for yourself and you will stick to that. Whoever you are, whoever you were – it’s not who you will be anymore. Is that what you want?”

The words were not meant to be cruel, but the proposal set before him did give him pause. He had resigned himself to life on Earth; he had accepted it. But accepting it for one day and the next was one thing.

To renounce his bid to the throne. To let go of his status as a warrior. To forfeit his family, his friends and his planet.

To think of _this_ as the rest of his life, however short that may be.

All that was entirely another.

It was a false dichotomy, though. After all, he had already made that choice; indeed, he had made it the minute he went to Jotunheim and started a war against his father’s wishes. It was all gone -- all of it -- with no hope of retrieval. He could cling to blind hope.

Or he could accept the inevitable.

He nodded steadily. “I have few options before me,” Thor admitted. “I have told you of my home and of my people, but I will willingly stop such conversation in return for safe harbor among you.”

Selvig drew a deep breath. “Okay, then,” he said.

Jane leaned in, smiling. “Let’s see what we can do.”

-o-

“I can totally make a fake ID,” Darcy offered.

“I really don’t want to know that,” Jane said.

“Well, technically we already have an ID,” Selvig said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, producing a card. “I had this one made up to get him out of the S.H.I.E.L.D. lockup.”

Jane’s mouth fell open. “Donald Blake?” she asked incredulously. “You gave him the identity of my ex-boyfriend?”

“It was the easiest option,” Selvig said.

Darcy cackled. “That’s brilliant,” she said. “The guy was an ass.”

Jane gaped at them. “You can’t steal the identity of my ex-boyfriend!”

“You have to admit, he kind of deserves it,” Darcy said.

“Look, we won’t exactly let him get a credit card,” Selvig said. “We just need something to let him get by in town.”

“Hey, so I guess you’re lucky that Donald never did end up visiting you out here,” Darcy said with a smirk. “So people will know the name but they’ve never met him.”

Jane shook her head. “This is not happening.”

“It’s the easiest option,” Selvig said.

“And it’s not like he’s coming back or anything,” Darcy said.

Jane huffed. “He was my _boyfriend_ \--”

Thor shook his head, finally too perplexed to stay silent any longer. “Am I not also a boy friend?” he asked.

Darcy choked on a laugh; Selvig raised his eyebrows.

Jane turned red.

Flustered, Thor frowned. “I believe you will have to explain this concept to me,” he said. “Because I do not understand the importance of this Donald Blake.”

“Yeah,” Jane muttered. “Join the club.”

-o-

Relationships, as it turned out, were just as transient as everything else on Earth. Though people did marry, they often did not stay married, and some people did not marry at all. Boyfriends and girlfriends were romantic attachments without any necessary long term commitments. Although there were still apparently rules and a certain etiquette to follow, clearly these rules were not hard and fast.

And clearly Donald Blake had performed poorly in such regards.

Therefore, while his companions decided that Donald Blake’s identity was the most logical choice, Thor was not certain he wanted it.

“But he was a dishonorable man!” Thor protested.

“But you’re not really him,” Jane said. “And it’s not like we’d go around calling you Donald.”

“Donny, maybe,” Darcy said. “You could be a Donny.”

Thor frowned.

Jane shook her head. “You know, it would hardly come up at all.”

“What are we going to call him, though?” Selvig asked.

“We already call him Thor,” Jane said. “It could be a nickname.”

“Probably from college,” Darcy said with a nod. “Biceps like those, no one is going to think twice about a call out to the god of thunder.”

“That’s the point, though,” Selvig said. “We don’t _want_ him to get attention.”

“Sincerely,” Thor said. “I do not wish to be any trouble--”

“You’re fine,” Jane told him.

“No, he’s illegal,” Selvig said.

“Along with a few million other people,” Darcy remarked.

Thor felt himself growing tense; the conflict was grating at him. “If you require me to leave--”

“No one is leaving!” Jane insisted.

“It’s a risk for us -- and him,” Selvig said. “If the government finds out--”

“Oh, will they try to deport him to space?” Darcy asked.

“He’s not going,” Jane said with an air of finality. “He’s part of this. He’s part of _us._ ” She looked at him. “He stays, at least for as long as he wants.”

There was a steadiness in her. In all that changed on Earth; in all that evolved and flew by, there was still something constant in Jane. At her core, Jane was solid and unshakable. She lived in a world that flew by her; her life was fleeting, and her own mind was at a constant state of movement. Yet, Jane Foster _was._ She accomplished more in her short days than most of Asgard could own in a century. And she took to change -- she _embraced_ it. Thor was a stranger to her, more trouble than he was worth, and yet she defended him with the passion of the fiercest warrior in all the realms.

He was indebted to her.

He was infatuated with her.

He could not be worthy of much, but he did hope someday to be worthy of her.

Selvig sighed. “Well, at least we’re in a remote location,” he said. “We should be able to keep a low profile.”

Darcy lifted her phone. “So Donald Blake it is!” she cheered, snapping a photo. “Facebook will love the update.”

Selvig groaned again.

Thor merely smiled.

-o-

So it was decided. Thor started talked with more confidence, and he made friends easily. People greeted him by name, and he gladly returned the favor. He mastered the pleasantries and excelled in conversation. The lives in Puente Antiguo were simple but busy. There was never much want for conversation.

They also adapted to change with an ease Thor did not expect. After only a month, he was welcomed among them as though he had belonged there all along.

Goats, his father called them. Thor had expected them to be small and petty and violent.

Small, yes. Petty, perhaps. And elements were prone to violence, given what Thor had seen on the television.

But they were strong willed and capable; they were eager and adaptive. They welcomed him.

Though he still missed home, sometimes he had to wonder if he’d ended up on the better world.

-o-

Thor was picking up lunch for his friends when Earl, one of the local ranchers, complained heartily of the news.

News, Thor discovered, rapidly shifted on Earth. There was always news, of world events and national politics. There were scientific discoveries and political positioning. There was also plenty of local news, of new grandchildren and the latest hookups.

Thor was proud of his growing understanding of the lingo. So it was only natural that he leaned in earnest to hear what was causing Earl so much grief.

“They closed the whole damn road!” Earl said, gesturing wildly while the waitress poured him a cup of coffee. “It took me an extra hour just to get around the section they taped off.”

“That sounds dreadful,” Thor said. “How is such a tactic legal?”

He had learned much of the legal systems during his time, and he enjoyed having relevant points to add to any discussion.

“Damned if I know,” Earl muttered. “They flashed these fancy badges, like that was supposed to mean something to me.”

“So they were part of the law enforcement?” Thor asked.

“Not any division I know of,” Earl said. “Nah, these were government folk.”

“Interesting,” Thor said. “I am aware that the government sometimes claims jurisdiction as it sees fit.”

“Bastards,” Earl said coarsely.

Thor patted him warmly on the shoulder. “Though it is inconvenient, it is important to remember that such decisions are usually made with the best of intentions.”

Earl huffed, but said nothing as Thor gathered his to-go order. He was leaving a tip when Earl shook his head. “Maybe,” he said. “But I knew there was more out there than they let on. That wasn’t no satellite. I don’t usually buy into those conspiracy nuts, but seems a bit coincidental. Something falls to the ground and a month later they’ve claimed the entire damn area?”

Thor stopped short, a shiver running up his spine. “This is where exactly?”

“In the desert,” Earl said. “Where the space junk fell last month before the government blocked it all off. Not that they ever left, but apparently it’s going to be a permanent facility. Our own personal Area 51.”

Thor numbly put his wallet back in his pocket -- the back pocket, as was the local custom -- and mumbled a goodbye. Suddenly the diner was too small; the people were too fragile.

Outside, the sunlight blinded him, and he hurried down the street, barely nodded at Ella from the diner before taking a quick turn down a more shaded side street. He forced himself to keep walking, even as his heart pounded.

It meant nothing, he told himself. It was not as if he imagined Mjölnir had disappeared. It was not as if that were even possible.

Still, even with that rudimentary acceptance, Thor had never considered what would happen to Mjölnir. He had not thought of it as a monument to his foolishness; nor had he considered it as a source of ongoing interest for other parties.

He should have known better.

Of course, there were many things he should have known.

As it was, this meant nothing to him.

It meant _nothing_.

-o-

When he got back, he laid the food out on the table. When his friends came to eat, Jane gave him a look. “Everything okay?”

Thor smiled, handing her a plate. “Everything is fine,” he said.

Jane hesitated. They had not known each other long, but she already knew him well enough to sense that something was different. He could only assume, however, that she did not yet know him well enough to discern exactly what. “Are you sure?”

It was all Thor could do to hold his smile, and he liked to think the lie was forgivable, if only just this once. “Completely.”

-o-

It was no more than a week later when Thor first noticed the men. Though they were dressed casually, it was easy to see they did not belong. Thor knew the people of this town, and he knew the look of the weary travelers who stopped here.

These men, though they tried hard, were of neither group.

They had a trained stealth that reminded him of Loki, watching him even without turning their eyes directly on them. Thor thought about being subtle in return, but that was not his forte. He pinned them with icy glares as they drank their coffee at the table, staring at them for a long moment before paying his bill and leaving.

Different men showed up on the street; and a woman, too. There was something about them -- they were trained in a way that no one else paid them heed, but Thor knew them in the way a warrior always knew the enemy.

But Thor was no warrior, so he ducked his head and kept on walking.

-o-

It was no surprise that Darcy was the one who discovered it first.

It was surprising that it took her nearly a week to bring it up, however.

“So, you know the how we don’t talk about the site in the desert anymore?” she asked.

Thor looked at her.

Jane shook her head. “Yeah, so--”

“So, I think maybe we should talk about it,” Darcy announced.

Selvig looked up with apparent concern. “Why?”

“Well, this is a sign that you two need to get out more because apparently this is old news,” she said.

Thor swallowed and stiffened.

“If it’s old news, then why are you telling us now,” Jane asked.

“Because I prefer news that’s actually interesting,” Darcy said. “And I refuse to follow anyone local on Twitter.”

Jane glared. “You’re not making any sense--”

“The site in the desert,” Darcy said with exasperation. “They’ve shut it down.”

“Wait,” Jane said, putting down her paperwork. “Shut it down?”

Darcy shrugged. “Locked it up? Literally built a base around it?”

Selvig’s face darkened, and Thor purposefully diverted his gaze.

“A base?” Jane asked. She turned toward Thor, then toward Selvig. “You mean--”

“I mean, a base,” Darcy said. “The thing is massive. They must have annexed, like, half the desert out there. You can’t get close, and all the access roads are cut off and heavily guarded.”

Jane gaped.

Selvig went white.

“So, yeah,” Darcy said. “I guess that means you really didn’t know, huh.”

Thor felt his cheeks flush. Flustered, he ducked his head. “Excuse me,” he said. “I believe I have some--”

He didn’t finish.

He couldn’t.

Instead he left. For the first time since meeting Jane Foster, he could not bear to look back.

-o-

Thor made it halfway down the block before he realized how entirely irrational he was being.

The facility in the desert meant nothing to him. Humans were naturally inquisitive, so it was only natural that they would want to study the bifrost site and Mjölnir. If Thor had any semblance of forethought, he would not have been taken off guard at all.

Moreover, the study would gain them little. The bifrost site would provide minimal information about the technology, though they may be able to trace some of the symbols back to ancient Viking culture, which Thor knew had some influence from Asgard. By now, however, any residual energy from the travel corridor would have dissipated, leaving them with less than Jane started with when Thor first arrived. Indeed, the only advantage of the site would be its view of the stars, but it was uncertain if the government would know enough to leverage such a position to any actual effect.

Even with Jane’s research, they were likely decades off from any significant advancement, and with Thor’s banishment, the All-Father had probably restricted movement in the direction of Midgard.

This was why he had felt so guilty on Jane’s behalf, and why he had pledged to provide her with any additional insights to spur her research further. He had no way of knowing how adept these other people were -- Jane seemed exceptional to him, but Thor had no means of being certain -- so it was impossible to know if this facility would yield any additional information in a timely fashion.

If they directed their attention to the sky, perhaps they would have a chance, but Thor knew their interests were probably more keenly set on Mjölnir. The thought of mere mortals poring over it was hard for Thor; they would try to take it apart or dissect it. They would attempt to provoke chemical reactions or elicit any kind of sign from it.

Mjölnir would not yield, though. Not for Thor, not for them.

It was hard to imagine, though, so worthy a weapon, sitting so vacantly. It deserved better.

And Thor had failed it.

Now, Mjölnir would sit in exile with Thor -- and beyond.

The weight of his failure was heavier than before, and he felt it profoundly. He flexed his fist, missing the familiar handle.

Yet, that was not any cause for concern. In truth, that had been true since the beginning. This had started with Mjölnir, when it rejected him that night in the rain. What happened to the hammer now was ultimately of no concern to him. It did not call to him, and he would not go to it.

But the presence of the government was concerning in other ways. Because if they were still studying Mjölnir, if they were making a permanent presence, that meant that this wasn’t over yet. If they came for Thor, he would not be able to fight them. If they took him into custody, he would have no choice but to comply.

Worse, if they came for Jane’s research, Thor would be powerless to stop them.

Thor was a danger to his friends.

Thor was a _danger_.

That was why he’d been sent here. He’d risked the lives of his friends and his brother; he’d risked the safety of his people and the peace among the realms.

And he was doing it again.

Thor never learned. He was slow and stupid, blind and bumbling. He deserved exile -- and worse.

Turning down the main street, Thor saw two more of the strange men. His senses prickled, but there was nothing to be done for it. Thor had nowhere to hide. There was nowhere to run.

Whatever his fate, he was powerless against it.

Head down, Thor kept on walking.

-o-

When Thor ran out of sidewalk, he stopped at the edge of town. The highway stretched before him, an undefined length of road he knew nothing about. It would take him away from here, he knew that much.

For a moment, he considered it to be the better option.

The nobler one.

Even if he could not evade the authorities of this world, leaving would perhaps spare his friends any further hardship on his account. The ongoing presence in the desert was cause for concern.

Still, he remembered his promise to Jane. He could not forget the way he had felt since his arrival, wherein these comrades were the only thing that made his exile bearable.

That, perhaps, was more reason to leave. His word was valuable, but not as valuable as his distance.

Yet, where would he go? What would he do? Would it matter anyway?

As he stared out, all he could think of was Jane’s face and her implicit trust in him. Thor still thought it nobler to leave.

But Thor was no longer noble. He was weak and broken and humbled. It had come to this, then. The Mighty Thor, felled so low. At least he hoped he could fall no further than to be hopeless and dependent and so openly in need.

Shoulders slumping, he turned back toward town.

-o-

Though he could not bring himself to leave, Thor also did not have the courage to face his companions. Instead, he ate lunch out and poked through a few stores. Killing time, he believed the phrase was. It was difficult to make polite talk, however, and rather than face questions from the well intentioned people of Puente Antiguo, Thor eventually made his way back to Jane’s lab.

He lingered for a moment, hesitating. It would be plain and logical to simply enter and address the issue. Or enter and ignore the issue.

Just _enter_.

Divested of his power with his hammer stuck idly in the desert, Thor Odinson was currently a coward.

Skirting around the back of the building, he found the metal staircase and headed to the roof. Without looking over the vast expanse, he sunk low into one of the chairs and stared at the sky, hoping for solace.

Solace evaded him, though, much like everything else.

-o-

At the dinner hour, Thor’s stomach rumbled but he steadfastly ignored it. His back began to hurt from the awkward position, but he merely stretched himself out and closed his eyes. For some time, he dozed, and when he opened his eyes again, it was night.

He was also no longer alone.

“Hi,” Jane said, standing some distance away.

Thor felt his cheeks redden and he hastily sat up. “I apologize,” he said. “I didn’t--”

“We wondered where you were,” she said. “But, um, I figured you might need a little space.”

Thor swallowed, easing his posture a little even as she tentatively approached.

“Do you?” she asked.

He raised his eyebrows.

“Need space,” she said. She gestured over her shoulder. “If you need me to go--”

“No,” he said. “I never crave any distance from you.”

A brief smile flitted across her face, and she sat down in the chair next to him. “Everything okay?”

He gave her a look.

“Okay, stupid question,” she admitted with a self-deprecating chuckle. “I was worried that you left.”

Thor sighed. “I very nearly did.”

It seemed to take some semblance of self-control for Jane to keep her emotions in check. “But you didn’t,” she said, and it was neither a question nor a consolation.

“I am not proud of the decision,” he admitted.

At that, she huffed. “Thor, I thought we settled this--”

“Jane,” he said, shaking his head. “I tried to pretend like it was unimportant. I wanted to believe that I could lead an insignificant life here, that I could fade away anonymously amongst your people and never be a burden to you or your friends.”

“Thor--”

“But I can’t promise you that,” he said. “The facility in the desert is indication that this is not over. Just as you do not stop your search, neither will they. I was foolish to think I could pretend it was irrelevant.”

She chewed her lip for a moment. “How long have you known?”

Thor looked down at his hands. “Two weeks,” he said. “More or less.”

“And you didn’t say anything,” Jane continued for him.

He looked up at her again, feeling even more pathetic. “I was scared,” he said. “I was weak. I didn’t want to consider the implication--”

“Thor--”

“I was willing to put myself first over your needs,” he continued, unable to stop himself. “Even today, I was unable to walk away.”

“But -- why?” she asked. “Why would you leave?”

“To protect you,” Thor said. “These people in the desert, if they are going to continue their research, they will find me again. They could take your research again. They could incarcerate you.”

Her mouth fell open. “And you think that’s the issue?” she asked. “You think that’s what I’ve been thinking about at all?”

“It should,” he told her. “You have been so kind to me, and yet I pose a persistent risk to your livelihood.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” she said firmly.

Thor tilted his head. “It’s...not?”

“No,” she said, emphatic. She sighed. “Thor, those people out there; that base they’ve built. It’s covering up your history and your past. It’s studying something that matters to you. You, and basically no one else. And I care about you, and I know how that must feel.”

“It is my own fault--”

“You keep saying that, and I don’t know, maybe it is,” Jane said. “But you have feelings, Thor. And you have feelings about that.”

She gestured, pointing stoutly out into the desert. Thor followed the jab of her finger.

“Sentiment,” he mused softly. “I have been told it was a weakness.”

“If it is a weakness, it’s one everyone has,” she said. She reached over, squeezing his arm with a small smile. “Human or not.”

Her comfort was so tempting; her absolution so easy. Things changed so rapidly on Midgard. He found grudges were hard to keep here, fleeting within days when they lasted centuries on Asgard. People accepted shortcomings and mistakes, and Thor could not deny that he wanted to believe in such forgiveness.

Yet, here he was, human and exiled.

There was no forgiveness for him.

There was no redemption.

He looked away.

Jane’s hand fell, and she let out a breath. “It’s probably S.H.I.E.L.D.,” she said. “I mean, Erik went out there again today, and that’s what he said. Which, if it is, then they already know about my research. And my grant is public knowledge. It’s not exactly hard to figure out. But just because they’re a risk doesn’t mean I’m going to let them control my life.”

Her bravery was inspiring, though it was naive. Thor knew little of S.H.I.E.L.D., but he did not doubt that they would be formidable against him in his current state. And to think, he hadn’t even told Jane about the men watching him in town.

“And, okay, so they’re setting up a base,” Jane said. “So they’re doing their own research and maybe they’re monitoring us right now. But they haven’t come for us yet. They let you go. I’m not saying we shouldn’t be careful, but splitting up and going into hiding -- that means they win. I don’t know about you, but I’m not big into surrender.”

He glanced up, lips twitching into a smile. “No,” he agreed. “There was a time when I was not either.”

“Well, and you can be again,” Jane said, grinning now. “We’ll get through this, Thor.”

He watched her. To think, his people thought minds like hers to be nothing. That they ignored them and mocked them. The ways on Asgard were good and true, but the life on Earth--

Jane Foster was exemplary. Her warmth and her compassion and her utmost dedication were proof of his people’s arrogance.

Thor did not deserve her.

But he would not forsake her either. “I cannot bring myself to leave,” he said finally.

“Good,” she said. “Because I don’t want to have to track you down.”

He chuckled. “You wouldn’t.”

She raised her eyebrow. “You really believe that?”

“Well, if you had your mind set on it--”

“It is,” she told him. “It is very set on it.”

“Very well,” he relented. “The topic shall come up no more.”

“Good,” she said. “Now that we’ve squared that away, do you want to talk about you?”

He tried to hide it, but his face fell somewhat.

“If they do stay out there, is there anything that they might learn from, um, the hammer? I mean, things you don’t want them to know,” she ventured.

Thor shook his head. “Mjölnir will tell them little.”

“They’ll analyze it,” Jane said. “I mean, I just don’t want to think of them damaging it--”

“They would not be able to, even if that was their intent,” Thor assured her. “No matter what tests they run, they will never fully grasp it. Even if they do manage to identify the materials imbued in the metal, they will never understand its full capacities. Indeed, I held it many times, and I believe I failed to understand its nature.”

Thor trailed off, his voice distant in the stillness of the night. Out across the expanse, they could not see the threat. Though Jane deemed it acceptable, Thor still felt it building against the back of his mind, like Mjölnir, a weight he could no longer move, no matter how he tried.

Jane reached over again, a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I can’t imagine what this is like for you.”

Thor found himself unable to speak.

“If you want to talk about it…”

But Thor shook his head, eyes still turned outward. There were no words for it; there was nothing he could say. Perhaps the time for words had passed, or maybe it had not come.

Either way, Thor did not know what he wanted to say. He knew nothing.

Nothing except that he found comfort here with her, and they sat together, staring out at the sky until the stars faded and the sun broke over the horizon.

-o-

There was something about dawn on Earth. Something hopeful and fresh.

Thor had always been one to rise with the sun, and it was true that he had always been anxious for the light. But it was different here. It was not that he had more important tasks -- his activities here were quite mundane -- but there was a fresh possibility. With every day, he was faced with the stark knowledge of his failure alongside the strange hope of his exile.

For exile was not death.

He was alive, and he was among friends. His battles were different now, but smaller did not make them of any less importance.

He had had no need for hope on Asgard.

Here, he found it to be everything.

-o-

He skipped his morning workout and opted to make an elaborate breakfast instead. If he was going to stay with these people and be a burden to them, he had to offer something in return.

In truth, he found comfort in that. In the days he’d spent pining to be king he’d thought no other purpose could satisfy him. It had been a fallacy, though, like so much else. Thor merely wanted to have a place. He wanted to add value.

Wielding a hammer or sitting on the throne.

Making breakfast and laughing with his friends.

If he was looking for a cause to fight for, then there was none better than that.

So Thor drew his battle line, and he dared the powers of this Earth to cross it.

Even if he knew he would be powerless if they did.

-o-

“This is amazing,” Darcy said. “You have mastered making bacon and eggs in, like, a month.”

“It is surprisingly easy,” Thor said. “The recipe book is quite explicit.”

“Explicit, sure, but I’ve spent the last twenty years on this planet and I still have no idea how to do it,” Darcy said.

“Well, have you ever tried?” Jane asked.

“That’s really not the point,” Darcy countered.

Selvig rolled his eyes. “You know, this doesn’t really change anything,” he said, chewing another bite of food. “We’re at risk--”

“And we’ve talked about it,” Jane said. “We’re not talking about it again.”

“I assure you,” Thor said. “I will do everything in my power to keep difficulties from befalling any of you.”

“You have no power, though, Thor,” Selvig said.

“Erik,” Jane said.

“I’m just saying what no one else wants to say,” Selvig protested. “There’s a bigger picture--”

“My work is already on their radar,” Jane said. “They’re going to be watching that as much as they are Thor. I mean, they know about my work. They don’t _know_ anything about him.”

“Jane--”

“Selvig,” Thor interrupted. “Your motives are pure, and your intentions are good. I have offered to leave many times.”

“And yet here you are,” Selvig said with a sigh.

“My motives are the same as yours,” Thor promised.

“But there are things you can’t control,” Selvig said.

“I am aware,” Thor said. “But I belong nowhere else.”

“Erik, we’ve _talked_ about this,” Jane said.

Darcy nodded. “Like, a lot.”

Selvig sighed. “I just don’t think any of you realize what’s at stake. We have to be careful, but instead we’re waving meat under the nose of a lion and hoping nothing happens.”

“I know your fear,” Thor said. “I have nothing to offer that can assuage it.”

Selvig shook his head, taking another bit with a growl. “If you weren’t so damn good at making eggs…”

Thor chuckled, recognizing the implicit deference in the deflection. “Then you shall have them as often as you wish,” he promised. “I seek only to be a part of your company, if not an equal party then a contributing member.”

“Well,” Jane said, lifting up a glass of orange juice. “I think I can drink to that.”

Darcy snapped a photo of her plate. “No one back home is going to believe that I get paid in breakfast foods.”

Selvig took another bite with a scowl.

For his part, Thor could only smile.

-o-

Thor had learned how to dress and act like a human, but he still found himself to be unduly conspicuous. People tended to look him over, offering more scrutiny than seemed warranted.

“I fear I am doing something wrong,” he said.

“Of course not!” Jane said.

“Well,” Darcy said. “You do sort of look like a Greek god.”

“That’s not the point,” Jane said.

“We don’t want extra attention,” Thor said, feeling somewhat distressed. “Perhaps if I wore long sleeves?”

“I think that’d be criminal,” Darcy said.

“He is right, you know,” Selvig said. “He does draw attention.”

“Perhaps if I shave,” Thor suggested.

“Or cut your hair,” Selvig said.

“And I know that’d be criminal,” Darcy said.

“Thor, listen,” Jane said. “Yes, you attract some attention. But that’s not a bad thing.”

“I thought we had to be careful,” Thor replied.

“We do,” Selvig said.

“And we are,” Jane said. “But seriously. Don’t touch your hair.”

“You think it will help me in the long run?” he asked.

“No, we think it looks amazing,” Darcy said.

“But it’s not too much?” Thor asked.

“Thor,” Jane said, as seriously as he had ever seen her. “Do not touch your hair. Promise me.”

He furrowed his brow, a bit taken aback. But he could deny Jane nothing. “Very well,” he said. “If that is what you desire.”

Jane grinned and Darcy looked relieved.

Selvig rolled his eyes. “At least we know if we get caught, we didn’t sacrifice his hair.”

“And that price will be well worth it,” Darcy said.

Jane shrugged apologetically. “I’m with Darcy on this one.”

-o-

Thor had learned much in his time on Earth, but it never failed to surprise him how much he still had to master: slang, international politics, American history, racial segregation.

Driving.

“These vehicles are not complicated,” Thor said behind the wheel. “I do not see why you must lecture me.”

“Because cars are dangerous,” Jane said. “They’re not toys.”

“I have flown many crafts more complicated than this,” Thor assured her.

“Sure, and then you ended up alone and abandoned on Earth!” Jane insisted.

“It was not reckless piloting that earned my exile,” Thor said.

“Well, I guess that’s reassuring,” Jane said. “But it doesn’t change the fact that it’s still one of the most dangerous things you’ll probably ever do on Earth, and I’m not going to take that lightly.”

She was serious -- very serious, in fact -- and though it seemed silly, Thor would not fight her. As the engine rumbled to life, he was struck by the strange realization that she was right.

After fighting wars and besting opponents in battle, this would be the most danger he would come across in his new existence. Here, in a mundane vehicle, with limited mobility and speed limitations.

Swallowing hard, he placed his hands neatly at ten and two. While the reference to timepieces was obtuse to him, Jane’s instructions had been quite explicit.

If this was to be his most dangerous task, he would approach it with a flourish worthy of his name.

-o-

Driving was easy.

Earth’s traffic codes were less so.

“Your laws are not intuitive,” Thor complained, manually turning on the light Jane called a blinker. “Why should the biggest car on the road not have the right away?”

“Because you really think if two guys come to an intersection, either will yield for the bigger one?” Jane asked, tensing as Thor made the turn, timing it perfectly between the oncoming traffic and navigating seamlessly into the correct lane position.

“Men do have foolish pride,” Thor reasoned. He used the brake, coming to an easy stop. He noticed that he had arrived second and he waved politely to the other driver.

Jane stared at him, a little impressed. “Some do, anyway.”

Thor laughed, pulling out from the intersection. “Do not be impressed,” he told her knowingly. “I told you I have driven many vehicles more complicated than this.”

“I know,” Jane said. “And yet, here you are. Being the _perfect_ citizen.”

“Is that not what I should strive to be?” Thor asked. “If this is my home, I should excel at all things.”

Jane nodded, starting to relax. “The world would be a better place if more people thought like that.”

Thor carefully approached a stop light, maintaining a following distance of three cars from the closest car. He tried not to think that Asgard was a better place without him.

Instead, he smiled. “I have no higher goal,” he assured her. “Now, where would you like to go?”

“I don’t know,” Jane said.

“Back to the lab?” Thor asked.

Jane was thoughtful. “You know,” she said. “Let’s just take the afternoon off.”

Thor looked at her in question.

“Honestly I thought it’d take all afternoon to teach you,” she said.

Thor nodded his head. “Ah.”

“But, since it didn’t, what do you say to a drive?” Jane asked.

Thor cast a small glance in her direction, his smile spreading. “I say it sounds very good.”

-o-

In his time on Earth, Thor had explored the town of Puente Antiguo quite thoroughly. He was well acquainted with the town, knowing the businesses, the people and the general layout. He had a rough grasp of the area outside of town, mostly from on-site data collections Jane desired.

He had been content to stray no farther. Part of him had probably supposed that there was nothing that would appeal to him, but as they drove down the highway, Thor realized how limited that sentiment was.

Though Earth was primitive compared to Asgard and many of the other realms, it was still a vibrant and developing planet. He had not fully appreciated Darcy’s complaints about how small it was or Selvig’s solace in the quiet. Because that meant there was more to Midgard.

A lot more.

Thor was exiled, but it was hardly a prison cell. Driving with his hands firmly on the wheel, the speed exactly at sixty-five, he began to realize there were possibilities. Life, short as it might be for him now, could be full and exciting.

It could have meaning.

Something fluttered in his chest, and he faintly recognized the surge of adrenaline. How long had it been since he felt such exhilaration? How long had it been since he’d been taken with possibility? How long had he just been satisfied and not happy?

Flexing his fingers on the wheel, he found himself smiling. However long it had been, he suspected it would be no longer.

-o-

At the next town, Jane told him to just keep driving. Dutifully, Thor obeyed. Following her directions as they merged onto an Interstate, as Jane described it, from the highway. This road was bigger with more lanes and far more cars.

“You think you can handle it?” Jane asked. “I mean, this is a bit much for your first day driving.”

Thor laughed. “I have conquered armies,” he boasted. He flashed a smile at her and winked. “I think this is well within my grasp.”

She grinned back. “Well, just don’t get pulled over,” she said. “You don’t have a license and we’d get in all sorts of trouble.”

“If it is a concern, you are more than welcome--”

Jane shook her head. “We can’t get you a license for all the obvious reasons, but I also can’t keep you sequestered,” she said. “I mean, what kind of life is that?”

“A safe one, perhaps,” Thor pointed out as he expertly navigated the traffic.

Jane snorted. “Safe doesn’t get us very far,” she said. “If I cared about safe, I would have taken the teaching job and married Donald.”

Thor gave her a quizzical look.

“This is better,” she told him. “Trust me.”

Of all the uncertain things in his life, that much was constant. “Always,” he told her. “I trust nothing else.”

Her smile widened, and she looked down, tucking her hair behind her ear. “You really are far from home, aren’t you? I mean, to trust me--”

“Jane, I do not exaggerate when I tell you I have done many foolish things in my life,” he said. “But trusting you, I swear, will never be one of them.”

She blushed, nodding as she tried not to smile. “Well, okay then,” she said. “Get off at the next town.”

Perplexed, Thor frowned. “You wish to return home?”

“No,” she said. “You said you trust me? Then let’s prove it.”

He remained skeptical.

“Science is important,” Jane said. “But Darcy is always telling me to get out of the lab. Erik, too. I don’t want you to think life is all about work.”

“If it is important to you--”

“It’s more than that,” she told him. “You’ll see.”

Thor nodded his head, turning his signal on before moving over to the exit ramp. “Very well, then,” he said. “I will see.”

-o-

The next town was Santa Fe. As expected, Santa Fe was larger, but not in the ways that Thor had expected. He had thought it would be nothing more than a larger version of Puente Antiguo with more streets to traverse. However, the infrastructure was much further developed. The buildings were larger and more plentiful, with more options for shopping, eating and more.

First Jane directed him to a shopping mall, which was a large structure that had a multitude of stores inside. Thor was impressed by the space, and he soon discovered the advantages of such size. Whereas the selection in Puente Antiguo was adequate, this mall had more of everything.

More clothing, more books, more movies, more games. Thor spent a period of time staring contentedly at a large screen TV, broadcasting a strange looking movie that Jane said was meant for children. He played video games and secretly wished he was able to earn money to purchase one. He read books and magazines, and drank a coffee from an establishment known as Starbucks. Jane took him to a movie in what was called 3D before they finally settled at a barbecue restaurant for a filling meal.

Thor was eating a rack of ribs, licking his fingers noisily when he noticed Jane was watching him.

Chagrined, he used his napkin to finish cleaning. “I apologize,” he said. “I have forgotten Earth etiquette--”

“No,” Jane said quickly. “That’s actually pretty appropriate for this kind of place.”

Thor still wiped his fingers, but gave the establishment a look of approval. “I like it,” he said. “This town, it has a lot to offer.”

“And this isn’t even a _big_ city, Thor. Not like Los Angeles or New York or something,” Jane told him. “I know you don’t think there’s anywhere for you to go, but there’s a whole world out there. It’s a lot more than what we have back at Puente Antiguo.”

She was offering him an out, he realized. All the times he had thought to leave, it had never been for his own well-being. He had always considered it for Jane’s sake. The idea that something out there might appeal to him more was hard to fathom.

He had had fun, but life was more than fun. It was more than good meals and vast entertainment.

He fixed his eyes on Jane. “This has been a very pleasant day,” he said. “I thank you for the experience, but please know I have every desire to return to Puente Antiguo with you. I wish to return home.”

_Home._ It was the first time he’d used the word in conjunction with anything on Earth.

But as he watched Jane’s eyes light up, he knew it would not be the last.

“Okay,” Jane agreed, motioning to their waitress. “Let’s go home.”

-o-

They started to travel after that, taking trips to nearby towns and attractions. Jane showed him geological wonders; Selvig took him to academic institutions. Darcy took him to raucous musical events called concerts that Thor found chaotic and strangely invigorating. Once they travelled to a place called the Grand Canyon, which cut open across the land.

Thor thought of a time when he would have wielded Mjölnir, summoning it to take him across in a single bound.

Standing on the edge, he was bound by the laws of gravity just as any other mortal, and he could only look down in awe.

He heard people whisper, wondering what it would be like to _fall._

At that, Thor turned away, for this was a question he had already answered the hard way.

-o-

Still, Puente Antiguo was home. Jane went about her work, and Thor did whatever was needed of him. Around town, he was still being followed, but he would not lurk.

No, he would not yield.

Thor had lost much of his pride, but not all of it.

At least, not yet.

-o-

When he first accepted his place as permanent on Midgard, Thor had grown quiet about his home. But as he settled comfortably among his friends, it was impossible not to talk of it. Darcy talked of growing up and skipping classes with her friends to go shopping at the mall. Jane talked of her lab experiment in college that nearly burned down an entire building.

And Thor talked of hunting bilgesnipe across the forests on the eastern coast, and learning to pilot gliders on the high mountains of the west. He told them of royal dinners and training as a warrior. He talked of feasts that went on for days, and celebrations that were immortalized in the stars.

At night, when Darcy and Selvig were asleep, he told Jane of his father’s stories and his brother’s magic. He told her of his mother’s lullabies, which made the stars themselves dance until he finally succumbed to sleep.

She shook her head. “Sometime I really think you are crazy.”

He hummed in agreement, looking up at the sky. They seemed farther every night now, more distant and impossible to attain. It seemed like another lifetime when he had thought them his domain. “Sometimes I think I am, too.”

-o-

He was making breakfast when there was a knock at the door. With Darcy nowhere to be seen -- it was before noon, after all -- and Selvig away on business, he found himself to be the only one available.

Turning down the temperature of the hash browns on the stovetop, he wiped his hands on his jeans before answering the door.

“Agent Coulson,” Thor remembered.

The man removed his sunglasses, smiling blandly. “Doctor Blake.”

The name was still somewhat foreign to him, but Thor was moderately adept at acting. “I did not imagine I would be seeing you again,” he said.

“Well, given that you haven’t been breaking into highly secure government facilities, I would guess not,” Agent Coulson quipped.

“Indeed,” Thor said. He paused. “But here you are.”

“Here I am,” Agent Coulson agreed. He rocked on the balls of his feet, glancing around Thor. “Do you mind if I come in?”

Thor didn’t move. “While you were within your rights to apprehend me, you also took various items from my friends that did not belong to you,” he said. “I am afraid you are not welcome here.”

Agent Coulson nodded, chewing his lip for a moment. Then he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small thumb drive. Thor recognized the device from all his time in Jane’s lab. “Did I mention I come bearing gifts?”

Thor narrowed his eyes.

“It’s Dr. Foster’s research,” he said. “At least, most of it.”

“And Darcy’s iPod?” Thor pressed.

Agent Coulson sighed, reaching into his pocket again, producing a small, well-worn device.

Thor reached out and took both, stepping aside. “Please, come in,” he said. “Breakfast is nearly done.”


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor had thought he appreciated the day to day life of Midgardian society. While searching for gainful employment, however, he discovered that there was still much to learn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I meant to link this earlier, but lena7142 drew a gorgeous picture of Midgardian Thor to complement the fic. You can see it here: http://portraitoftheoddity.tumblr.com/post/115266361309/thor-for-fayedartmouth-and-her-fic-measure-of-a. It's well worth a visit. I’m glad some of you are still reading out there! As always, credit to g-rox-theninja for his keen beta skills.

As Thor busied himself at the stove, Agent Coulson followed slowly behind him. “You know, I’m kind of surprised,” the man said. “For a man who holds advanced degrees, you sure seem to be playing house a lot.”

“I made a choice to honor Jane’s career goals first,” he supplied without missing a beat.

Agent Coulson nodded, walking through the kitchen with a discerning eye. “Still, it seems a little strange,” he continued. “Doesn’t it, Donald?”

Thor almost flinched at the name.

Agent Coulson stepped closer. “Is it okay if I call you Donald? Or maybe you’d prefer Thor?”

Thor stiffened somewhat but refused to show his concern. “If you are trying to make me uncomfortable, I suggest you rethink your course of action,” he said with a knowing look back. “All you are confirming is that you have been following me over a period of time. If I had done something to warrant this continued observation, I doubt you would have come bearing gifts, as you say.”

Agent Coulson sighed at that. “Let’s stop the act,” he said. “You’re not Donald Blake, and it would take me two minutes to produce enough evidence to have you arrested on fraud charges.”

Thor removed the breakfast from the heat source, pulling three plates down from the cabinet. “If that was your intention, you would have done so already.”

“That’s the point,” Agent Coulson said. “I don’t want to arrest you. I want to offer you a job.”

At that, Thor stopped. He turned, confused. “A job?”

Agent Coulson nodded. “I know you’re not Donald Blake,” he said. “But I also know you don’t exist on any Earth database. You don’t even have a birth certificate, and there’s no evidence you even existed until that _meteor_ hit down in the desert not far from here. I’ve gone over Dr. Foster’s work. I’ve seen the evidence. You came here _with_ that meteor. And to be frank, I don’t know exactly what that means, but I know it means you have more answers than I do, which is why I think we can work together to our mutual benefit.”

Thor considered this. Leaning against the counter, he shook his head. “Our mutual benefit?”

“I think we all want the same answers,” he said. “We’d be better off working together than apart.”

“I have no need of answers,” Thor said.

“No?” Agent Coulson asked. “So you don’t a way to get back to wherever you came from?”

Thor chuckled, turning back to the pan to dish out the food. “This is my home.”

“Fine,” Agent Coulson said. “What about Dr. Foster? What about her work? We can get her back on track -- and then some. We can get her funding and a new lab. The best research facilities.”

Thor glanced back, critical. “All this for what price?”

“Just your availability,” Agent Coulson said. “If we have questions, you supply the answers.”

“That is not much of a job,” Thor pointed out.

“You do have other skills,” Agent Coulson said. “You ran circles around my best guards. I highly doubt we would have caught you unless you had already given up in the first place.”

This time, Thor was genuinely surprised. “You wish me to be a security guard?”

“There’s more to it than that,” Agent Coulson said. “If you agreed to our terms, we would take you in and tell you more about what it is exactly that we do.”

There was something tempting, to be sure. Thor knew little about the organization Agent Coulson worked for, but he could only imagine it to be of some repute. They had control over the hammer, and they were studying the same phenomenon as Jane. Agent Coulson was right, they could help Thor.

This was exactly why it was of no consequence.

There was no help for Thor.

More than that, his answers could not be trusted to just anyone.

And mostly, Thor was no longer a warrior. Thor was a mortal. He was a simple man, and he wanted for nothing. What Agent Coulson called a benefit, Thor could only see as folly.

For Jane, it was tempting, but this was not the path he needed for himself. The fact that he wanted it was only confirmation of that fact.

Smiling politely, Thor put the plates on the table. “Your offer is generous,” he said. “And I accept your gifts of goodwill with all due respect.”

Agent Coulson straightened. “But?”

“But the answers you seek are not mine to give,” he said. “Not anymore. I am neither the man you seek nor the warrior you suppose me to be.”

Agent Coulson lifted his chin. “Then who are you?”

Thor smiled. “Donald Blake, of course.”

“But your friends call you Thor,” Agent Coulson said with his eyes narrowed.

“Will you be staying for breakfast, Agent Coulson?” Thor asked.

Agent Coulson looked at the spread. He looked back at Thor. “No, thank you, Dr. Blake,” he said. “But if you change your mind…”

Thor inclined his head. “I’m sure I’d know exactly where to find you.”

-o-

When Jane arrived ten minutes later, Thor was eating the food he had served for Agent Coulson. He held out some hope that Jane would not suspect they had had a visitor, but he probably should have known better.

With damp hair, Jane sat down with a curious look around the table. “Was someone here?” she asked, getting a forkful of breakfast ready.

“It was nothing of importance,” he assured her, finishing the last bite of Agent Coulson’s sausage.

“That’s why you invited them for breakfast?” she asked, nodding at the empty plate next to Thor.

Thor frowned, wishing he’d thought to be more thorough. There was a reason Loki had always excelled above him in subterfuge.

“You left the extra place setting out,” she pointed out. “Even if you ate it.”

“Perhaps our guest ate it,” he suggested.

“Ha, see,” Jane said. “Someone _was_ here.”

Thor sighed. “How did you know?”

Jane shrugged with a smug smile. “I’m a genius,” she said. “And also, your voice is super loud. It carries like you wouldn’t believe. And I still think it’s possible you’re crazy, but you’re not talk-to-yourself crazy.”

“Is that supposed to be reassuring?” Thor asked.

Jane rolled her eyes, taking a quick drink of juice. “So who stopped by?”

“Ah,” Thor said, looking back down forlornly at his now empty second plate. “As I said, no one of importance.”

“Well, sure,” Jane said. “But I didn’t ask if they were important.”

Thor put his fork down. Normally, he appreciated Jane’s intellect, but sometimes, he had to admit, he missed the days of being a Prince of Asgard. He had had to explain himself far less then.

Of course, that may have been part of his problem.

He looked up again, smiling at her. “Our guest returned this,” he said, reaching over and picking up the thumb drive. He picked up the iPod, too. “Also, this but I have a feeling you will be more interested in the other.”

Jane looked curious at first, but as she reached out, her eyes widened. “Wait, is this--”

“Your data,” Thor said. “I am told that most of it is intact.”

Her mouth fell open. “Are you _kidding_ me?”

“I have not had a chance to check the data myself, but since I would not know what to look for--”

She looked at him in awe. “This is amazing,” she said. “I mean, this is incredible.”

He smiled.

Her eyes widened again, and she shook her head. “Wait,” she said. “Who exactly was our guest?”

“Agent Coulson,” she said. “You met him briefly the night your things were confiscated. I got to know him better when I attempted to infiltrate the compound in the desert.”

“You mean SHIELD?” she asked, eyebrows rising. “S.H.I.E.L.D. was here? To return things?”

“Well,” Thor hedged. “That was not the only reason for his visit.”

“Well, _what_ ,” she said. “S.H.I.E.L.D. hasn’t exactly been our friend around here, so why would they start _giving_ stuff back after taking it in the first place?”

“They claim to want much the same thing as you,” he said. “Answers.”

“Oh, so instead of doing years of research, they just steal from others?” she asked. “That doesn’t sound like the good guys to me.”

“Which is one reason I refused the job Agent Coulson offered me,” Thor said.

Jane stopped again. “Wait. They -- offered you a job? Doing what?”

“The details were not entirely clear,” Thor admitted. “Presumably they have concluded that I know more than I let on regarding the incident in the desert.”

“Do they know about who you are?” she asked with a fresh wave of concern.

“It is probable that they have their suspicions,” he said.

Panic lit in her eyes.

“But I do not think they wish to cause me trouble,” he said. “They seem to have no pressing desire to address the question of my identity in a public setting.”

Her brow furrowed. “Just a private one,” she assumed.

“This S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Thor said. “I believe it may be a high-level government agency.”

“Sure,” Jane said. “Not far from the CIA or the NSA, I imagine. Which is another reason not to trust them.”

“Purveyors of knowledge, no doubt,” he said. “I would think you could appreciate that. Knowledge with no boundaries and by any sacrifice necessary.”

“Not _any_ sacrifice,” Jane clarified for him. “I have professional integrity. I don’t go around stealing data.”

“I do not condone their means,” Thor said. “But it is worth considering that they may have the same pursuit as you.”

“Sure, which is why they’ve blocked off the desert site,” she muttered.

“There is sometimes need for secrecy,” Thor told her gently. “My presence is problematic on this world. Evidence of Mjölnir does carry certain risks. We have created this alternate identity for a reason.”

“Yeah, to protect you from S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Jane protested.

Thor sighed. “I told you, it was of no importance. I rejected their job offer.”

“That’s good,” she said, nodding. She paused, taking a drink. She chewed her lip, looking less sure. “That’s good.”

“Yes,” he said, collecting his plates. Getting to his feet, he took them to the sink. “I feel confident in my choice.”

Rinsing them off, he put them in the dishwasher. When he turned back around, Jane was still pensive.

In his time on this planet, he had come to know that look.

Jane was a woman whose mind was always in motion. She thought and rethought; she made hypotheses and revised her own conclusions. Nothing was ever settled for Jane.

Loki would have liked that about her.

Indeed, even his mother would have found her agreeable.

Wearily, Thor sat down again. “Should I not feel confident in that choice?” he prompted.

“Well,” she said. “I mean, you aren’t _totally_ wrong about S.H.I.E.L.D. They’re morally ambiguous and their methods are not really ones I’d endorse, but they’re not the bad guys.”

“So?” Thor asked.

“So,” she said, gesturing absently. “I imagine it’s possible to be a good person and work for them.”

“I have no desire to work for them,” Thor replied.

“But they control the hammer!” Jane said. “They know everything I know, and who knows, probably _more._ They could help you, Thor. If anyone can get you home--”

Thor shook his head. “This is my home.”

“You know what I mean.”

“But I am not sure you know what I mean,” Thor said. “I do not need help understanding my place in this universe. Even if I could help them develop the bridge you seek, there is no easy passage to Asgard for me. At this point, I do not seek it.”

“You really don’t want to try?” Jane pressed.

Thor sat forward. “Do you wish me to try?” he asked. “If you believe they can help you with your work, I could reconsider--”

Her face darkened. “What? No.”

“If an affiliation would help you--” Thor began.

She shook her head. “Thor, this is about you.”

“I have no desire to work for S.H.I.E.L.D.,” he said.

“Well, what do you want to do?” she asked.

He frowned. “I am content--”

“You can do more than this,” she said. “You’re smart, you’re strong, you’re more than capable.”

“But I find great pleasure in being here with you,” he said.

“Having a job doesn’t mean we can’t spend time together,” she said.

“I have no interest in what S.H.I.E.L.D. is offering me,” he said.

“Okay, sure,” Jane said. “But S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t the only place hiring.”

He inclined his head.

“So you don’t want this job, but it brings up a good point,” she said. “There are _other_ jobs.”

He blinked at her. “Other jobs?”

“Sure,” she said. “There are all kinds of jobs. If S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t for you, then we’ll find something else that is. I mean, you have to have passions. There has to be something you love to do.”

Thor considered his favorite pastimes back on Asgard. Training as a warrior; hunting; wreaking havoc in the All-Father’s kingdom with his friends.

Somehow, he doubted that these were employable passions.

“I believe that may be...difficult,” he said.

Jane was smiling again, eyes bright and eager. “Well, you know me,” she said. “I _love_ a challenge.”

-o-

Thor had thought he appreciated the day to day life of Midgardian society.

While searching for gainful employment, however, he discovered that there was still much to learn. 

“What sort of job is this?” he asked, reading a selection from the Want Ads. “Self-motivated individual needed for journalistic research. No experience needed.”

“Journalism’s not bad,” Jane said, glancing over his shoulder at the ad.

Darcy shook her head, though. “You don’t want that.”

“It says no experience needed,” Jane said.

“I am willing to try anything,” Thor added.

“Yeah, that says self-motivated,” Darcy pointed out.

“So?” Jane asked.

“Self-motivated? That’s an easy way of saying it’s low paying,” she said. “Or it could even be an unpaid internship. Which is really what people call indentured servants in the modern age.”

Jane glowered. “An internship is a positive opportunity to learn and grow.”

“It’s asking someone to work for mostly nothing,” Darcy said.

Jane shook her head. “Even so, it doesn’t say that.”

“Self-motivated?” Darcy asked. “Come on!”

“They could be doing lots of solo work!” Jane protested. “You can’t know.”

“Sure, I can,” Darcy replied.

Jane stood up, crossing her arms over her chest indignantly. “How?”

“Those are the words you used in your ad,” Darcy returned. “Self-motivated research. AKA work for nothing for the rest of your life.”

Jane huffed incredulously. “I’ll have you know this is very valuable experience for you,” she said.

Thor looked from Darcy to Jane. “Should I consider the job, then?”

Darcy shrugged.

Jane turned beet red. “No, you want something that pays you,” she said.

Darcy smirked triumphantly. “Told you.”

-o-

They scoured the Want Ads. They searched Craigslist. Thor looked at requests for teachers and dog walkers and factory workers and salesmen. While his alternative identity did have an advanced degree, they had all agreed that Thor’s particular expertise did not position him well for any high level work. Indeed, Thor had no desire to attain a lofty title.

He wanted a simple job. He wanted to perform a worthwhile task and earn an honest living.

The possibilities, it seemed, were endless.

For once, Thor saw that the gift of his noble birth was also something of a burden. His whole life had been determined, laid out on a course he had neither picked nor thought to contradict. He had been preparing to be king, and his time as a warrior had been without saying.

Now, however, Thor had choices. Thor could pursue anything he so desired, no matter how lowly or unimportant.

Thor would learn what it meant to be human.

Mostly, though, he would learn what it meant to _be._

-o-

After determining a list of the best jobs available in the area, Thor asked Selvig to help him make something called a résumé.

“It’s an overview of your qualifications for the job,” Selvig explained warily as he brought up a template on the computer.

“Would this not be better ascertained in person?” Thor asked.

“Most jobs have too many applicants,” Selvig said, clicking a few buttons. “Hiring managers need to go through the résumés first to see who fits the job parameters.”

“You have done this?” Thor asked.

Selvig shrugged. “I have to hire faculty from time to time,” he said. “And I have discretion over who is admitted into my academic program.”

“So these résumés are common, then,” Thor concluded.

“Very,” Selvig said. “Now there are a lot of ways to go about this, but I always find that simple and straightforward is the best way to go. See? We have a sample here to go off of. We’ll just start with your name…”

He started to type Thor, and then stopped, deleting the words.

“Donald Blake is going to sound less…conspicuous,” Selvig said. “You can tell them you go by Thor if you get a call back.”

“That seems reasonable,” Thor said. “What are these other features?”

Selvig sighed, scrolling down. “Well, first they like you to list your schooling.”

“I have extensive training with private tutors back on Asgard,” Thor supplied proudly. “Though I did not excel as much as some, the curriculum was designed to be comprehensive and intense, covering a wide range of all possible topics.”

Selvig looked up at him, before looking back at the screen. “I’ll have to look up the procedure for home schooling,” he muttered. “Maybe we can do that later. Hm, okay. Skills.”

Thor nodded thoughtfully. “I am very good with most weapons,” he said. “Before I took up the hammer, I grew quite adept with the sword, and I have superior marksmanship with projectile weaponry.”

“Yeah,” Selvig said. “We’ll probably not want to include battle skills.”

“Oh,” Thor said. He paused to think. “I have some diplomatic training as well.”

“Strong human relation skills,” Selvig said readily, typing it in quickly.

“And I have led many men and women in complex battle campaigns,” Thor added.

“So...managerial experience,” Selvig continued to type.

“My comrades and I were well regarded as the most effective fighting team in the realms,” Thor said.

“Strong team player,” Selvig murmured as the keys clicked.

“I also have some skills with magic,” Thor said. “Though, my talents there are limited, but I am capable of some simple tricks.”

Selvig stopped, craning his head back.

Thor nodded. “That is not going to be relevant, is it,” he realized.

Selvig just looked at him harder.

Thor raised his eyebrows. “Is something wrong, Selvig?”

“You really still think you’re him,” he said, shaking his head. “The actual Norse god of thunder.”

Thor sighed. “I do not claim to be a god.”

“But you do claim to be Thor,” Selvig said.

“I have made no secret of my identity to you,” Thor told him quietly.

“I know,” Selvig said. “And I don’t know, sometimes maybe I believe it. But other times...I mean, can you even hear what you sound like? _Thor_? The god of thunder? Living in Puente Antiguo and applying for a _job_? It doesn’t even make sense.”

Thor offered him a small, withdrawn smile. “If your history books do make note of me and my people as gods, then it should not be so hard to think of them to fall.”

“That’s a hell of a long fall,” Selvig said.

“I know this better than you, I’m afraid,” Thor said.

Selvig sighed. “I never should have got you out of S.H.I.E.L.D. custody in the first place,” he said, turning back to the screen. “Probably would have been better for both of us.”

Thor’s spirits fell. “I am sorry.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Selvig said. “It’s not that I don’t like you, because it’s basically impossible not to like you. But there’s more to you.”

Thor shook his head. “This résumé must adhere to your customs.”

“No,” Selvig said, turning back to look at him again. “There’s more to you than _this_. Here, in Puente Antiguo, if you are who you say you are, then you don’t belong here.”

“I have not lied to you,” Thor promised. “You have my word.”

“The word of a mad man,” Selvig mused.

“Is that who you think I am?” Thor asked.

“I don’t know what I believe most of the time,” Selvig admitted. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re not human.”

“In that, I believe you are wrong,” Thor said. “I am human, just like you are.”

“Not like me,” Selvig said with a grunt. “I just...can’t wrap my head around it. Who you are.”

“Who I was,” Thor corrected. “That part of my existence is no longer important.”

“Isn’t it?” Selvig asked. “We all have a past.”

“And mine is taken from me,” Thor told him. “I can never go back.”

“So, what, then,” Selvig said. “The god of thunder is really going to apply for minimal wage jobs on a stolen identity? And live out the remainder of his days in anonymity?”

Thor stiffened. “I see no other choice.”

Selvig blew out a breath. “But Thor,” he said. “As in, the son of Odin? You don’t _belong_ here. S.H.I.E.L.D., for all its faults, might be able to help you.”

Thor held his gaze somberly. “Your intentions are noble, Selvig,” he said. “But unless you are going to finish the résumé with me, I am afraid no one can help me.”

Selvig looked at him a moment longer, the wonder turning to awe before settling on outright confusion. He shook his head, sighing again as he turned back toward the screen. “Okay, then,” he said. “Work Experiences.”

-o-

When his resume was completed, he delivered in person as he was able. Puente Antiguo was a small town, so positions were slim. His résumé was gladly accepted at the diner, though he was more interested in talking with customers than serving them food. It also did not help that every time he served a platter of something new, he wanted to try it himself and he ate his way through any potential pay he might have received.

The pet shop declined to give him an interview, citing the fact that it was apparently not funny to joke about riding cats and dogs.

The gym would have hired him, but lifting weights was easier than instructing others to do so.

“Don’t worry,” Jane assured him. “There’s something out there for you.”

“Yeah, I’ve been turned down for more jobs than I can count,” Darcy told him.

“This isn’t the same thing as being lazy,” Jane said.

“I’m not lazy,” Darcy said. “I merely have trouble finding jobs that aren’t totally boring.”

“You are a horrible example,” Jane shot back.

Selvig grunted, flipping the channel on the television. “The fact that we have a man with no relatable work experience and a falsified identity is the problem,” he said. “We’re lucky that anyone is giving him a second look at all.”

“Perhaps he is right,” Thor said. “If it is too risky--”

“No,” Jane said, lifting her chin defiantly. “You are a smart, capable worker. There’s a job out there for you, I know it.”

In this life, Thor found few things to hold on to, few things to truly believe in.

But then there was Jane.

Resolved, confident and undaunted. She was small and insignificant, but she did not let her status deter her. She ventured onward, heedless of her own limitations. Jane Foster was entirely human.

She was also the strongest person Thor had ever met.

When he was not sure what to believe in, he believed in her.

“Very well, then,” Thor said, bucking himself up. “I will secure a job tomorrow.”

“Well, there’s no pressure--” Jane started.

“Tomorrow,” Thor told her, with a decided nod. “By whatever honor I have, I will find a job tomorrow.”

-o-

His boasts were strong.

When he set out the next day, however, he realized that he may not have the ability to back up his claims. It was a force of habit, to say the least, to make bold claims. On Asgard, he’d been capable of nearly anything by his birth and his might.

On this planet, however…

Well, things were more difficult here.

Even so, they were not impossible.

He did not have to be the god of thunder. He just had to find a job.

Thor had vanquished countless foes. He had claimed victories around all the realms.

Now he merely had to conquer the job market.

-o-

Thor quickly ascertained his options. Although he could probably get a job at the diner if he asked, he did not want to earn a position out of charity. Few other businesses were hiring, and he was ill suited for positions of raising Midgardian children as a mere matter of safety. There were opportunities at a factory nearby, and as far as he could tell, it paid horribly and consisted mostly of intense manual labor.

In short, Thor would be well suited for this job.

He knew it was lowly, and Jane had called it unduly dangerous, but a job was a job. Thor was not in any position to be particular about such things.

Besides, hard labor was not beneath him.

_Nothing_ was beneath him.

However, as he made his way out of town, he was stopped as a construction vehicle crossed the road. He let the car idle for a moment, watching as the men tried to quickly unload. They struggled with one of the larger items, and Thor finally turned off the car.

Getting out, he approached. “Friends,” he called out. “Do you need assistance?”

One of the men, soaked with sweat, gave him a sideways glance. “Sorry, buddy,” he said. “Just a moment--”

Even as the man spoke, the large object pitched to the side. As it threatened to topple, the men cursed and raced to brace it. Sensing the impending danger, Thor stepped forward and helped catch the object -- what appeared to be a concrete tube, undoubtedly for construction of a rudimentary facility -- before it came crashing perilously to the ground.

It was not as easy as Thor might have presumed. Though he was still strong, his Aesir strength was no more. He could feel the strain in his muscles, and for one, terrifying moment, he considered if the object should slip from his grasp and crush him.

With the help of the other men, however, this did not come to pass. Together, they kept the object upright. Together, they moved it along its path before settling it on the side of the road.

The man wiped his hands on his jeans and squinted up at Thor. “Thanks,” he said, sounding genuinely appreciative.

“Any time,” Thor said.

“I could use a guy like you,” the man said with a humorless grunt. “Strong and not afraid to use it.”

It was something of an idle compliment.

And yet, Thor stopped.

He looked over toward the construction site.

He looked back at the man. “Are you serious?”

The man looked surprised.

“About needing a _guy like me,_ ” Thor clarified.

The man looked surprised. “You asking for a job?”

“Are you offering a job?” Thor asked.

“It’s hard work, buddy,” the man said.

“That will not be a problem,” Thor said.

“Long hours,” the man continued.

“I have ample time.”

“It’s dangerous,” he added.

Thor began to smile. “I have no fear of danger.”

The man laughed. “Well, then, buddy,” he said, holding out his hand. “Looks like you just got yourself a job.”

-o-

Thor expected Jane to be happy.

Her response, therefore, was vexing.

“Construction?” she asked.

“It is an honest living, is it not?” Thor asked.

“I guess,” she said. “But I was sort of thinking you’d find something...else.”

“Hey,” Darcy said. “I hear it’s good money.”

“Yeah, and it’s extremely physical labor,” Jane said.

“Have you seen Thor lately?” Darcy asked.

Thor smiled politely. “Darcy is right,” he said. “I have no qualms with the physical nature of such a job.”

“But construction!” Jane exclaimed.

Thor shook his head. “I am far better suited for such work than many other of the positions we considered,” he said.

“And it probably helps with his lack of documentation,” Selvig added.

“Well, that’s the point,” Jane objected. “It’s not altogether reputable.”

“We can’t all be scientists,” Darcy pointed out.

“You aren’t,” Jane muttered at her.

“Jane,” Thor said. “I assure you, I am quite pleased with this position. I feel optimistic about the time I am to spend there.”

“But it’s long hours, Thor,” she said. “You’d get home late. You’d be tired.”

“Oh, hey,” Darcy said. “Does this mean no more cooking? I’m having second thoughts.”

Selvig sighed, rolling his eyes. “We are all very capable people,” he said. “With the extra income, we can all afford to eat out a bit more.”

“But it’s _dangerous_ ,” Jane said.

“I am aware,” Thor told her. “They warned me of this when I asked for the position.”

Her face twisted up. “And that doesn’t bother you?” she asked.

“I have no fear of injury,” Thor said readily.

“But it’s not just _you_ ,” Jane said. “It’s -- I mean -- all of us. If something happened to you…”

It was fear, he realized then; concern for his safety. Jane was not an elitist, nor would she deny him something to fulfill his needs. But she knew something of caution. She knew much of consequences.

Two things Thor had never paid much heed to throughout his life. When his friends had cautioned him, he had laughed. When his father spoke of consequences, he endured them with the alacrity of a child throwing a tantrum. In so many regards, he had thought himself immortal. He had known nothing of limitations.

He was mortal now, though. While he still did not fear bodily harm, he had to accept that it was far more possible now. Moreover, he had to acknowledge that his choices did not merely affect him. This was not like Jotunheim, where his brazen choices resulted in wars across the realms. But his choices still affected these three people.

Jane Foster, Darcy Lewis, Erik Selvig.

They were an unlikely group. They were not warriors; they were not heroes. But Thor cared for them.

Indeed, he loved them like family.

“Jane,” he said. “I did not consider that this might cause you apprehension.”

“What?” she asked, trying to downplay her response. “I--”

“I understand your concerns,” he continued. “I believe the risks are acceptable, and I believe I am especially well-suited for this type of work. I am eager to discover if I indeed have a talent for such labor. However, if you do not wish me to pursue this--”

Her eyes widened, and then she blushed. She shook her head. “No, no,” she interjected quickly. “I mean, if this is what you want to do…”

“It is,” he told her earnestly.

She smiled. “Then I think it’s great,” she said.

His face brightened.

“You will be good at it,” she told him. “Just...promise me you’ll be careful.”

“You have my word,” he pledged.

“And can you promise me you’ll still make breakfast?” Darcy asked.

Thor smiled at her. “On weekends,” he said.

“And maybe on Tuesdays?” Darcy insisted. “Tuesdays are hard.”

Thor chuckled. “Perhaps on Tuesdays.”

-o-

Despite a royal upbringing, Thor was not accustomed to hard work. While he had shirked many household responsibilities around the palace, he had always excelled in his physical training. Loki had sought refuge in books, but Thor had relished the training field. He had taken great pleasure in pushing himself to all physical limits.

Even so, his new job is taxing.

It could have been the nature of the work. While training for battle was exhilarating, construction was somewhat less so. It also could be a testament to his new mortal frame. He was still more capable than most of the men he worked with, but his body felt the burden far more acutely now.

The first week, he was sore. His appetite went from extreme to ravenous, and he found it harder to get up in the mornings. At night, when he and Jane went to the roof to talk, he found himself drifting to sleep while she talked of the stars.

In the mornings, when he woke up with a blanket over him, he felt oddly peaceful with the idea of being human. There definitely were worse things.

-o-

There was much to learn.

He learned about tools and routines. He learned how to assemble and build. He learned about large machines and how to manipulate materials to do what was needed. It was a strange thing, pounding and cutting with tools when he knew there was a time he could have done such things with the strength of his hands alone.

“Hey, that’s pretty good carpentry,” one of his coworkers said as Thor took up a hammer to finish pounding nails into the frame of their most recent structure. “You’re pretty good with a hammer.”

Thor looked at it, felt the weight in his hands. He swallowed hard against the burning in his chest. “I was once,” he said. He flexed his fingers more tightly around it to lift it up again. “Perhaps I can be again.”

-o-

Thor finally understood what his father had said. Mjölnir had been a great weapon, of this there was no doubt. Thor had wielded it to fight, to threaten, to destroy.

Here, though the hammers were less impressive, they were useful all the same. Now, Thor learned to cooperate, to build, and to encourage.

On Asgard, Thor had sought to rule.

Here, on Earth, he could only hope to learn.

If only he had understood earlier, that as a weapon, a hammer was powerful.

As a tool, though, its worth was infinite.

-o-

When one structure was finished, another began. There was always another project.

His workmates grumbled about this, the inevitable and ongoing nature of their job.

Thor, however, found comfort in. This way, there was always some purpose to his life. There was always something left to accomplish.

In his youth, he had courted war.

Now, he found solace in building things that would last, which would endure.

Though he himself would pass away, there would be some testament to his presence.

Some evidence that his life had mattered.

Mortal and disgraced, Thor was still capable of good.

-o-

And it wasn’t all work.

Thor made friends easily, and he was soon popular amongst his coworkers. At first, he abstained from their company after a day’s work, but with his toil under the hot sun, the promise of cool ale shared amongst friends became an appealing choice. His coworkers were a diverse group, but they were all good men. They talked of their wives and girlfriends, their children and their parents. They discussed their favorite sports teams and their weekend plans. Thor learned to play pool and quickly conquered darts. He enjoyed the raucous singing and full revelry offered in their company.

Some might say they had nothing to celebrate.

But for Thor, another day was cause enough.

-o-

It was strange, however, being away from Jane and the lab. At first, he tried to keep up with all their progress, but it quickly became an impossible task. Jane was relentless in her pursuit, and Thor quickly found that his familiarity was pushed to its limits.

After a month, he still asked her how her day went, but as she talked, he found himself smiling and nodding because he had no idea what she was talking about.

(“It’s okay,” Darcy whispered to him. “I never know what she’s talking about, and I’m here all day.”)

But he loved listening to her anyway.

-o-

To be fair, Jane had no idea what he was talking about either, but she always asked while they ate their carryout from the day. In the evenings, he checked her calibrations while she rubbed his back, and at night, they still found themselves on the roof more often than not.

“You don’t have to,” Jane told him, almost apologetically. “You work hard; you don’t have to sit up here with me.”

“Do not be silly,” Thor reprimanded her.

“I’m not,” she said. “It can’t be fun. We just talk about the stars.”

“The stars,” Thor said, nodding up into the sky. “They are the greatest thing we have in common. They are where we are connected. They are our beginning and end. I enjoy my work, and I take comfort in my friendship with Darcy and Selvig, but _this_ , Jane. This is the time I cherish most.”

She smiled shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “In that case,” she said. “Can you tell me again? About the branches of the tree? I’ve been working on this theory, but I need to double check some things.”

Thor returned her smile. “Of course,” he said. “It would be my pleasure.”

-o-

Though it was smaller and much less grand, there were times that Puente Antiguo reminded him of his father’s halls. True, the meals were less expansive, and the people were far less regal; but they knew him by name, and greeted him warmly on the streets. Soon, Thor found himself helping lift heavy objects and repairing broken fixtures. Though he was still learning the vast art of being a builder, he found himself quite adept.

And the people were grateful. He received free coffee and apple pie. He was given the gift of conversation and company, which were truly the things he came to cherish most.

He recognized the agents from S.H.I.E.L.D. from time to time, always watching from a distance. If they were looking for answers from him, they would look forever. Because Thor could fix a window and change the batteries on a smoke alarm, but he had no way to explain to S.H.I.E.L.D. what happened in the desert.

It was very likely they would never understand the hammer that lay dormant in the desert. Surrounded by guards, tested by scientists, perhaps they hoped to grasp it someday.

It would elude them, though.

Just like it eluded Thor.

-o-

And the revelry.

Thor could enjoy revelry in any form, and though the bars were somewhat less auspicious on this planet, he found the ale just as satisfying. If Thor knew anything as well as he knew battle, it was celebration.

“Come, my friends!” he said. “Greg is turning thirty-one! Surely this is a momentous occasion.”

Greg, the coworker in question, rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Thor, it’s not that big of deal--”

“We work hard, and we toil for our rewards,” Thor cajoled. “We should take this cause and enjoy it for what it is!”

“But it’s just a birthday,” Greg said.

“It is the opportunity to celebrate our lives,” Thor said. “We must remember what it is that makes our lives worth living. Life cannot be a meaningless string of tasks to complete. It cannot be tedious routines. It must be embraced! It must be _enjoyed_. Come! I will buy the first round of drinks!”

Terry, one of the other men, snorted. “Hell, I’ll celebrate that.”

Marco grinned. “Happy birthday to Greg.”

Thor smiled broadly.

Greg shrugged. “Well, then,” he said. “I guess maybe a round of drinks won’t hurt.”

-o-

Thor knew little of Earth’s customs regarding birthdays.

However, he did know how to celebrate.

He ordered one round, and then another. He procured the finest selection of appetizers available. Then, he turned the music up and let the revelry begin.

-o-

No one left unhappy.

There had been a pool tournament and a darts contest, which got progressively more interesting as the participants became further inebriated. Thor had to use Jane’s credit card to pay the bar tab, but he felt the price would be worth it in the end.

He slapped Greg warmly on the shoulder. “Thank you,” he said. “For sharing this celebration with me.”

“Hey, man,” Greg said, sounding genuinely flattered. “Thank you. Best party I’ve been to in years.”

Thor was not just building buildings and roads with these men.

He was building a life.

And that, he could only think, was the greatest gift of all.

-o-

It was late when Thor returned home, thoroughly rejuvenated. He let himself inside and started to make himself one last snack before bed when the lights snapped on.

Jane was standing in her pajamas. “Thor!”

Thor smiled. “Jane!”

She advanced on him. “Where the _hell_ have you been?”

His smile fell. “I was at the local bar with several my friends from work.”

“Until 3 AM?” she asked.

“We were celebrating Greg’s birthday,” he told her with a satisfied nod.

“Until 3 AM?” she asked again, more incredulous this time.

Thor glanced at the clock. “I did not keep track of the time.”

“Well, I did,” she said. “I waited for you. We held out a plate of dinner for you. I even fought Darcy from eating the last piece of pie for _you_. And then you didn’t come home. And you didn’t come home, and you didn’t come home.”

It was plain that Jane was upset. What was less clear to Thor, however, was why. “I...am sorry?”

She lashed out, shoving him in the arm. “You can’t do that!” she said. “I didn’t know where you were! I called your work, but no one answered, so I had Darcy track down the name of your boss and we looked him up on the Internet, and we called his cell phone. We called his cell phone, Thor.”

“That sounds very resourceful,” Thor said, trying to be helpful.

Jane did not seem pleased with the compliment. “I thought maybe you’d left,” she said. “Then I thought maybe something had happened. I mean, I know you’re strong, but there are car accidents and there are meteors that fall from the sky, apparently, and you have this thing about getting hit by cars, and I didn’t know, okay? I didn’t know where you were.”

Thor frowned. His mother had lectured him from time to time about being punctual for his engagements, but it had been nearly impossible to hide on Asgard. He had been a prince, after all. And Thor had never seen much point in hiding. “Jane,” he said. “I meant no harm--”

“I was _worried_ ,” she said, gesturing widely. “You’re...my friend. And...I don’t know, we’re friends. I didn’t know where you were.”

“Jane,” he said softly. “There is little harm that can befall me--”

“Ugh,” she said, throwing her hands up. “You’re not a god, Thor! Maybe you were once, but you’ve said it yourself, you’re not anymore. You’re not invincible. When Darcy tased you, you went down. When I hit you by a car, you were unconscious. If something happened to you…”

Tilting his head, Thor began to understand.

Jane cared about him.

True, many people had cared about Thor on Asgard. But mortals treated such things differently here. They lived fleeting lives, but not in complete denial. No, on Earth, they understood their own mortality. More so, they appreciated it in those around them.

If something happened to Thor, Jane would miss him.

There had been those who would fight by Thor’s side. His friends would lie for him and follow him wherever he led.

But Jane Foster, she would worry about him. She was no warrior; she had no powers to aid him; but she cared about him.

As friends. As equals.

Possibly as something more.

There were consequences to his actions, even those that seemed innocuous. Thor had been cast out from Asgard, but that did not make his actions less important. If anything, they carried more weight now.

For he had alienated one home.

He could not do the same so flippantly with another.

“Jane,” he said again, more steady this time. “I do apologize for my oversight. I did not realize you would worry.”

She huffed. “Of course I would worry,” she said. “I’ve been worrying about you since you fell out of the sky and I hit you with my car.”

Thor smiled lightly. “I am not used to answering to anyone.”

“It’s not like you have to get my approval,” she said. “It’s just...I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I have no desire to worry you,” he said earnestly. “Please know that I will always come back for you.”

She appeared somewhat mollified, shrugging one shoulder. “I know you intend to,” she said. “But like I said, you’re not invincible.”

He wanted to balk. Though mortal, he was still stronger than most men. There were few threats on this planet that posed him much risk at all, and Thor had quick reflexes and strong battle instincts.

Even so, somehow he knew that was not the answer Jane wanted.

Thor had always known how to be right.

Perhaps he had to learn to be wrong more gracefully.

“Very true,” he said. “Then how should I rectify this in the future?”

“Well,” Jane said, shuffling her feet awkwardly. “You could call.”

“I do not have ready access to a phone,” he said. “Though I could borrow one of my companions.”

“No, no,” Jane said. “We’ll just have to get you a phone.”

“I would like that,” Thor said. “I have always found Darcy’s device quite fascinating.”

“Well, we may not get you the advanced data plan just yet,” Jane said. “But something simple.”

Thor nodded. “Will it cost much?”

Jane shrugged. “If your paycheck can’t cover it, we’ll work it out.”

“That is good,” Thor said. “I believe I may have -- what did they call it -- maxed out the credit card.”

Jane’s face darkened again. “Wait. What?”

“It was a night of revelry,” he said in his defense.

Jane groaned, rubbing a hand over her face. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

Thor looked hopefully at the window. “The stars--”

“Thor,” she said. “We’ve had a long enough night. The stars can wait.”

He frowned. “Jane.”

She sighed. “It’s late, Thor,” she said. “I’m stressed. And I’m tired. And apparently I’m broke. So I’m going to sleep.”

He watched her go, feeling something ache inside of him. “I am sorry, Jane Foster.”

She glanced back, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I know,” she said before turning back up the stairs. “I know.”

-o-

Thor sat under the stars alone that night. Though his day had been long, sleep did not come. He looked at them, surveying one to the next, remembering the time when he had shot between then with all the glory of Asgard.

He had been a prince once; beholden to no one. His requests were never denied. He never had to justify himself, for he had been born of privilege.

It was humbling, to say the least. To be cast out, to be mortal. To be stripped of his power and his position, and left like this. To toil at a meaningless job among small, trivial beings. To be so dependent on others, the need to explain his simplest choices to those around him.

Thor was better than this.

He sighed, turning his head away from the sky.

That was the problem, however. He _wasn’t_ better than this. He needed these people, and this job and this planet and this life were all that he had. He had no throne here, but the fact was that he had never had the ability to rule; not like he should have. If he could not maintain close relationships with three dear friends, then how could he hope to rule a planet and keep peace in the realms?

His father had been right to banish him. His punishment was just.

He smiled faintly, thinking of Jane. For between her reprimands, her concern spoke for itself.

It was possible that Thor would never learn how to be a proper king.

But he thought there was hope that he might learn to be a better person yet.

-o-

Thor did not sleep that night. In the early dawn, he took a walk through the quiet streets until he found the only patch of green in this desert realm. He plucked a few flowers, careful to leave enough for others to enjoy, before going back to the lab. There, he put the flowers in fresh water before setting to toil over the stove. The breakfast was nothing short of a feast and while he left much of it on the table for Darcy and Selvig, he arranged a bountiful plate on a tray for Jane.

He added the flowers and picked up the latest scientific journal on Jane’s work station, sneaking quietly across the grounds to her trailer, settling all of the items on the small table.

She shifted in her sleep, rousing softly and Thor stilled, watching her. Her face twitched, and she rolled to her side before settling back into rest. He hesitated, picking up a piece of paper and a pen to scrawl a note. Jane might need her distance today, but Thor was prone to mistakes, but he liked to think he kept making different ones. He was, he hoped, capable of learning.

Satisfied, he tucked the note on top of the journal.

_My dearest Jane,_

_You have my apologies again for my behavior last night. I will go out to make restitution today, but I intend to return for the evening meal. In the meantime, enjoy breakfast and study on my behalf._

_In deference,  
Thor_

He did not enjoy making apologies. He enjoyed making amends even less. However, in the grander scheme of things, he was quite grateful for the chance to do both.

-o-

Most Saturdays, Thor spent his time around the lab. While he was able to be helpful at Jane’s request, he also had the freedom to watch television or listen to music. He was not usually one to be taken with study, but he found the Internet to be an entertaining medium for cultural research.

With his hard labor during the week, this time off was more cherished than it might have been on Asgard. He had earned it -- most of the time.

Today, however, he had to earn something far greater. Trust and affection.

Which meant it was time to get to work.

-o-

Puente Antiguo was a small town. In many ways, it would be easy to think that meant there was nothing to fix. To the contrary, however, Thor had discovered that it simply meant there were fewer people to tend to such needs. Things were built to endure on Asgard. On Earth, the structures and possessions were even more fleeting than the people.

This was a hard truth for Thor to reconcile sometimes. He also found it invigorating.

Today, however, he saw it as merely an opportunity.

He had often been called upon to do odd jobs for the residents of town, lifting heavy objects or reaching high places. But there had always been other tasks of more serious effort that he had noticed unfinished, much to the detriment of those who lived there. Indeed, Margaret at the diner had often said she’d pay him to remove the broken freezer, and Paul at the hardware store had made similar offers in regards to his storage room. Most of the time, Thor had politely declined, citing his long work schedule.

Not today.

Margaret was thrilled when he accepted her terms, and though the refrigerator was heavy, she paid him generously and tipped him with free donuts while he labored. While working in Paul’s storage room, Joe stopped by from the furniture store to chat, commenting with some passion on Thor’s strength. Apparently, there were a few fixes needed at his establishment as well.

From there, he was hired by several residents to do everything from yard work to simple construction. He took whatever wages they would give him and relished their hospitality more than the rest. The work was not hard and neither was it glamorous, but it fulfilled many needs.

Including his own.

This was life in community, then. In the palace, there had been attendants and confidants. His friends had flocked around him, lauding him with the things he wanted to hear. He had been a child of privilege, and though Thor had never been cruel, he had not understood what it was to work for a living. Nor had he grasped the symbiotic relationship between individuals in a flourishing society. One person, be it a king or a peasant, was no more important than another. Thor had not understood it on Asgard, when he’d reasoned that the thunder was at his command. It had been no less true, however.

In his humility, he was beginning to grasp it here. The give and take of society was not merely a sociological function. It was part of what made life _work._

Thor did simple tasks and earned meager wages, but far more had been gained that day.

-o-

Thor was grinning when he returned to the lab. Selvig was watching TV, and Darcy was nowhere to be found, but Jane was hunched over her desk, eating bites of dinner while she worked.

She looked up when he entered, straightening with a look that was both hopeful and uncertain. “Hey,” she said. “You were gone.”

“You got my note, did you not?” Thor asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Jane said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just...wasn’t sure what you were doing.”

“Nothing as irresponsible as last night, I can assure you,” Thor told her.

“Look, about that--” Jane started.

“You were entirely fair in your assessment,” Thor said. “I am unused to the way my actions have consequences. I am also unused to being a man who lives within set means. In my whole life, I did not have to fix the problems I made.”

Jane blinked a few times, clearly a little taken aback. “Well. Yeah.”

“I am trying, though,” Thor said. “Your patience is laudable.”

At that, she blushed. “It’s not like you’re doing a horrible job or anything.”

“Even so,” Thor continued. “I have survived on this planet only thanks to your hospitality. While I have learned much, I accept that there is still much to learn of your ways and customs. More than that, I have much to learn about being human.”

Her eyes warmed, and her smiled widened. “Really, Thor,” she said. “I was more worried than anything--”

“Another oversight, I’m afraid,” he said. “I can only prove that one to you in time, but as for the rest--”

He paused, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the money he had earned.

“Let this be a testament of my intention to change,” he said, offering her the money.

Her eyes widened, and she took the money, flipping through it in surprise. “Thor, but how did you--”

“I assure you, these are honest wages,” he said. “It seems many people around town are in need of assistance.”

Jane looked up, curiously. “Assistance?”

Thor shrugged. “Large items to move. Boxes to organize. Doors to fix,” he said. “Sometimes the simplest tasks are the ones that get put off the longest. I merely filled needs and allowed them to compensate me as they saw fit.”

She looked back at the wad of cash, counting it this time. “You got all this from odd jobs around town?”

“I’m afraid the amount still fell short of what I owe you,” Thor said. “However, many people mentioned the need for further assistance. I believe within several weeks I will have enough to repay my debt to you.”

Shaking her head, she turned her eyes up to him again. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“You were angry--”

“That happens,” Jane said. “I mean, that’s how it is with close friends. With… family. You don’t owe me a debt, though.”

His lips turned up. “Your openness is reassuring,” he said. “But trust me, Jane. I owe you a bigger debt than any currency could compensate.”

She took a breath, looking at the money once again. For a second, she appeared uncertain but she finally tucked the money into her pocket, meeting his gaze steadily once more. “Thank you.”

He smiled, reaching out to take her hand. He lifted it, pressing a kiss to it gently. “Thank you.”

Giggling, she blushed again, tugging her hand away. “I keep telling myself that won’t make me act like a school girl every time you do it, but you really pull it off.”

“It is merely the proper way to treat a lady,” Thor said.

“Flowers, breakfast in bed, cold hard cash and chivalry?” Jane asked. “You really are a girl’s best friend.”

“My dearest Jane,” Thor said. “I could only hope for so much.”

Her smile broadened. “Well, keep trying,” she said playfully. “You might just get there sooner than you think.”

-o-

That night, they sat together beneath the stars and Thor told her of hunting bilgesnipe and grand banquets.

She talked about her graduate thesis and her first major speech at an international conference.

They were different people, with different histories and different pasts. In so many ways, they had nothing in common.

Except for the stars, of course.

The vast promise of space joined the most distant parts of the universe, and it bound two unlikely souls in a strange harmony.

When they miscommunicated, when they did not understand. When conflict seemed too much effort to overcome. Thor took comfort in knowing they still had the stars.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Even so,” Selvig said. “I’ve had my doubts about you, but you’ve proven yourself. It’s not your strength, but your character. You’re a good man, Thor. I’m glad you’ll be here for her, even when I’m not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’m really glad some of you are enjoying the little things about Thor’s journey. This story was never intended to be quite as long as it was, but it was the realization of all the little things Thor would have to adjust to that just made me pursue the details. So I’m relieved that it’s not a monotonous read! Beta work still provided by the faithful g-rox-theninja.

Going back to work was hard. He found himself more tired than usual, the lack of sleep pounding behind his eyes and the extra work sapping the reservoirs of his strength. He was unaccustomed to such weariness, and he found it unpleasant.

In the past, he would have canceled his duties for the day, seeking refuge in his room or resting lazily on the shores of his father’s private waters.

Those were indulgences of another time.

The consequences to actions could be as cataclysmic as war; or as mundane as an achy body on a weary Monday morning. Thor was not so egotistical as to measure both the same, but he was also not so proud as to not see the similarities.

He would endure his exile.

Just as he would endure this Monday morning.

There was not much that could be done for the exile.

At least there was the miracle drink known as coffee to help this Monday.

And all the days that followed.

-o-

Thor worked through the week and committed himself to two full days of labor to finish his debt to Jane. On Sunday night, he arrived back late and tired, putting the last of the money on the table before sitting down to the leftovers from dinner.

“Wow,” Jane said, counting the bills again.

“That’s, like, more cash than I make in a month,” Darcy protested.

“There must not be anything left to fix in town,” Jane said.

“To be fair, have you seen this town?” Selvig asked.

“I could have completed many more tasks,” Thor said. “Apparently many people put off such repairs for indefinite periods of time.”

“Well, small fixes are like that,” Jane said with a shrug.

Thor shook his head. “It does not make much sense, though,” he said. “The simple things are the things that should be done first.”

“No,” Darcy said, reaching to snag a few bills from the pile. “The simple things are the things that are easiest to overlook.”

Jane swatted her hand away. “Life gets busy,” she said. “It’s easy to take things for granted.”

“Indeed,” Thor said, using a fork to scoop rice directly from the serving platter. “I was like that once as well. But the temporary existence of humanity has made me reevaluate such things.”

Darcy slumped in her chair. “Life’s too short to waste it working.”

“So that’s why you never get anything done,” Jane mused.

“No, that’s because you never pay me,” Darcy shot back.

Jane rolled her eyes, tossing a five at her. “Take this and stop whining.”

Selvig cleared his throat, sitting up. “Even so,” he said. “We’re impressed with the work you’ve done.”

Jane sat up, reaching back to the counter. “We are,” she said, smiling brightly at him as she picked up a box. It was adorned with a small red bow and she held it out. “So we took the money you earned last week and we got you something.”

Eyeing the box, Thor’s gaze narrowed. He shook his head. “That money was compensation--”

Jane shook her head. “You earn money, too, Thor,” she said. “Someday we’ll have to talk more about budgeting so you can spend some of it on things you like. And things you need.

Thor hesitated. “I did not do this work to seek a gift.”

“Thor, please,” Jane said, sounding a little exasperated now. “It’s as much for us as it is for you.”

At that promise, Thor reached out, taking the box skeptically. He untied the bow, setting it beside his plate as he lifted the lid of the box. Inside, there was an electronic device that Thor readily recognized from Darcy’s tutelage as an iPhone.

He looked to Jane, perplexed.

“This way you can just call before you go out,” she said. “You can tell me if there’s a birthday party or if you want to stay for another round or if you want to watch a game, or I don’t know, whatever.”

“So I can attain your permission,” Thor said.

“So you can let me know,” Jane said. “You can do what you want to do. We just want to make sure you’re okay, is all.”

“You do have a tendency to get hit by cars,” Darcy pointed out.

Thor brightened. “Perhaps you can even inform me how much money is too much to spend.”

Jane laughed. “That too.”

“Or maybe we just ought to have that talk about budgeting,” Selvig suggested.

“Yeah, that all sounds totally boring,” Darcy said. “What we really need to do is tell him about his data plan. We got the best one. Awesome coverage; fast download speeds. You can totally stream on that thing.”

Thor looked down at the small device, curiously. They had similar devices on Asgard with more refined structures and far more power. It was interesting that it came with cords and attachments, as if the power source was not indefinite.

Still, Thor had seen the reliance of the populace on such devices. People at the diner used them frequently. Darcy carried hers as though it was attached to her hand. At work, many of the men checked updates or contacted their loved ones. Even Jane and Selvig spent a significant amount of time on their devices, both for communication and entertainment purposes.

As far as Thor could tell, a phone was a defining part of human culture. It allowed people to connect with one another on a new level. While it was not essential and Thor had indeed survived without one, he understood the underlying meaning behind such a gift.

Thor was not a stranger to this planet, nor was he a foreigner among these people. He was being accepted as one of them, and he was being offered the chance to fully assimilate to their way of life. In short, Thor was being given the opportunity to be more completely human.

For a prince, such a trifle could be viewed as a demeaning gift.

For a lowly mortal with nothing, though, it presented an opportunity.

An opportunity Thor intended to take.

Gently, he removed the phone, touching the screen. It came to life, and Thor scrolled his finger delicately across the surface, mindful of how fragile it felt beneath his touch.

“Thank you,” he said. “I will use it faithfully.”

Jane’s smile widened. “Good,” she said. “That’s good.”

“Very,” Thor agreed, unable to look away from her.

“Oh, hey,” Darcy interjected. “We need to get you registered on Facebook. Because I may post a picture of us together and change my relationship status to _It’s Complicated._ ”

Thor tilted his head at Darcy. “How is our relationship complicated?”

“Oh, it’s not,” she said. “But I love fielding responses from people who are confused by large, blonde men who are literally named Thor.”

“That’s probably not the best idea,” Selvig said.

“Yeah, don’t do that,” Jane added.

Darcy lifted up her phone, aiming it at Thor. Obediently, Thor smiled. “Oops,” she said. “Already done.”

Jane threw up her hands.

Selvig rubbed his forehead. “We’re going to regret this yet.”

-o-

Although Thor was tired and hungry, Darcy was quite eager to show him the many facets of his new phone. Despite the device’s primitive nature, Thor was pleased to see that it was entirely functional and had numerous entertainment options. With Darcy’s assistance, he discovered the App Store, and with Selvig’s caution, he discovered how to search for free apps to use on his device.

Selvig reminded Thor that it was a means of communication first and foremost, and instructed Thor carefully on the proper care for the device. He helped Thor set up a free email account while Darcy generously provided assistance in establishing other accounts for social media.

It was Jane who taught him to text, however.

It seemed only fitting that his first text should be to her.

_I am glad that I am here with you ☺_.

It seemed wordy, perhaps, and he had to correct his typing numerous times because his fingers were too large for the pop up keyboard. For effect, he added a smiley face at the end, a flourish which he hoped Darcy would appreciate.

No less than a minute later, Thor received his first text in reply. Jane’s was simpler and to the point. It was also the best text Thor thought he might ever receive.

_Me, too_.

-o-

Time passed more quickly on Earth, and though Thor knew that not even a year had passed since he started his exile, it felt like more. The dramatic changes had started to fade, and soon Thor found that life had settled into a comfortable routine.

He worked; he conversed with his friends; he lived. This existence, though drastically different than life on Asgard, was becoming normal to him. He stopped measuring time in relation to who he’d been and started looking forward to the things of this planet. He counted down the hours to the end of the workday, and rallied his supplies for game day. He counted on listening to music and playing games on his phone. He took pleasure in drinks with his friends and the quiet nights with Jane and the others in the lab.

And he valued the nights on the roof with Jane, sometimes staying even when she departed for sleep, staring up at the sky and going over the names of the stars that he remembered from his astronomy tutors as a child.

They were nothing but names to him now, useless trivia that had served him in another life. Whatever Loki was doing, however his father and the realms fared, it was of no concern to Thor. The ache in his chest had dulled, for Asgard was a different life. This was where he existed; this was where he would endure for his shortened days.

This life.

Each night, Thor turned his head from the stars earlier and earlier. Some nights, he thought, if it were not for Jane, he would not look to them at all.

-o-

Thor’s life settled, but Jane’s seemed to be changing rapidly. With her new equipment fully functional, she began to chart new readings. From all accounts, the activity levels were picking up again. Her scientific speculation left her breathless and excited, and though Thor only made out bits and pieces of her conjecture, he looked on in worry.

Not for Jane, of course. Her work was undoubtedly accurate and meaningful.

But the activity itself was of particular concern. The readings suggested that there was movement between the realms. Increased passage with the bifrost was indicative of troubled times.

Perhaps war.

“I mean, it’s way more than before,” Jane said, shaking her head as she recorded a fresh series of readings. “You know this stuff. What could be causing this kind of spike in activity?”

Thor knew, of course. But to tell Jane the truth would reveal more than he desired. Moreover, he did not wish to hinder her enthusiasm. She would, no doubt, hesitate at celebrating heightened conflict throughout the universe.

Instead, he smiled faintly. “From here, it is impossible to say with certainty.”

“But you have to have _some_ idea, right?” Jane pressed.

“Well, the readings are helpful, are they not?” he asked.

“Um, yes,” Jane said. “With the rate we’re collecting data, we’ve already surpassed where we were before S.H.I.E.L.D. took away our equipment. With this amount of information, I can refine the equations and build a much more effective model. So this is, like, the _best_ thing ever!”

He could not help but smile at her energy. “There, then,” he said, ignoring the pang of grief deep in his chest. “That is all that matters.”

-o-

It was not that Thor expected things to always stay the same; it was just that he had not expected the change to come from Selvig.

The older man was the grounding force of their unlikely team. Though he held his liquor somewhat poorly and found many reasons to complain, Thor did not doubt that the man had a keen scientific intellect and a common sense practicality that made him an invaluable complement to Jane’s intensity and Darcy’s distraction. Indeed, Thor had found his company quite satisfying, and Selvig had taught Thor much of sports and earthy drinking rituals.

So it was a strange surprise when the man announced his intentions to leave.

“I’ve already stayed longer than I intended,” he explained over dinner.

“But we’re making such good progress!” Jane said.

“Exactly,” Selvig said. “I came to help you find your direction, to make sense of the questions you couldn’t parse enough, and you’ve done that, Jane. You don’t need me anymore.”

Her shoulders fell, and she shook her head. “But what are you going to do? Go back to teaching? You hate students.”

Thor said nothing, although he did have some questions in regard to this. Selvig had talked of other places and other jobs, though he had never showed any inclination of having to leave for these things. Thor had never asked exactly what Selvig did for a living, for he had always assumed that they all lived and operated under the same stipend and were working toward the same ends.

He realized now, of course, that a man of Erik Selvig’s age and stature probably had other opportunities. Jane was clearly in charge of this project, and Selvig’s support, while steadfast, was not entirely necessary.

If anything, Selvig was here for Jane, not merely the science, and Thor had not thought that was relevant until now. After all, Thor and even Darcy were also here for Jane. Thor himself had no other ambitions and Darcy, Thor could presume, had strange ambitions that made her current position the most suitable for her nature.

But Erik Selvig was too studied and too established to stay on with this project forever. If Thor had been paying more attention, he would have came to this conclusion earlier.

“I don’t hate students,” Selvig said. “I just hate the self-entitled ones who expect science to happen with no effort.”

“If science just happened, it’d be a lot more interesting,” Darcy offered.

“Which is why you hate students!” Jane said. “You can’t possibly want to go back to the university.”

“And I’m not,” Selvig said. He took another breath, looking at each of them in turn. “We all know S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t going anywhere.”

Thor tensed slightly at the mention.

Jane’s eyes went wide. “Erik!”

“They’ve made several offers over the last few months,” Selvig explained. “Each one more reasonable than the last.”

“Because they want to steal my work again,” Jane objected.

“They did act with dishonor,” Thor reminded him.

“I haven’t entered into this blindly,” Selvig said. “I have everything in writing, with strict stipulations about the intellectual property of everyone involved. S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t going to stand idly by while this works goes on.”

“So you’re just going to give it to them?” Jane asked, her incredulity mounting.

“I’m going to help them with what they already have,” Selvig said. “They have facilities of their own, and they have their own team of scientists already working on the project--”

“Idiots, no doubt,” Darcy said.

“Not idiots,” Selvig said. “S.H.I.E.L.D. has some of the very best.”

“Which is why they need you?” Jane asked.

Selvig sighed. “I’ve seen their labs, Jane,” he said. “They’re months behind you.”

“Until you show up and give them my work!” Jane protested.

“I would never do that,” Selvig said. “And besides, it’s not like it’s a contest. Scientific advancement is an end in and of itself.”

“Oh, that’s easy to say when you’re taking someone else’s work,” Jane said.

“I’m not taking anything,” Selvig said. “And every contract I’ve signed has expressly forbid the usage of your work without your explicit consent and involvement.”

Jane drew a breath, brow furrowed as she looked at Selvig. “If it’s the _same research,_ why would you leave?” she asked. “If I can do it better here, why would you walk away?”

There was a silence, as Jane looked at Selvig. Selvig held her gaze, and Thor glanced between them, eyes flitting uncertainly to Darcy. The younger woman was, for once, silent as well.

“No one is the enemy here,” Selvig finally said. “And someday you may need an ally. I can help you more there, than I can here.”

Jane knitted her brows together again. “You’re actually serious.”

“I already signed the paperwork,” Selvig said. “I’m leaving in the morning.”

Jane worked her jaw, looking away. “I think you’re making a mistake,” she said finally, lifting her gaze again.

“Well,” Selvig said. “It looks like it is mine to make.”

Jane almost flinched, pushing back from the table and throwing her napkin on her plate. “Excuse me,” she said, as she turned to leave. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

No one spoke as she left, leaving through the front door and turning hard toward her trailer. There were several more moments of silence, before Darcy forced a smile. “So I suppose now’s a bad time to ask if S.H.I.E.L.D. actually pays its interns, huh?”

Selvig sighed, pushing away from the table as well. “I’m not very hungry either,” he said tiredly as he moved away from the table toward his room.

When the door shut behind him, Darcy looked at Thor. “I really bet they do pay their interns,” Darcy said with a nod.

Thor pushed away from the table.

“What,” Darcy objected. “I _know_ you’re still hungry.”

“I am,” Thor said. “Even so, you will have to excuse me.”

Darcy sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes. “Fine,” she muttered.

Thor nodded courteously at her, turning toward the door.

“But so you know,” she called as he left. “I may eat all the food just to spite you all.”

-o-

As expected, he found Jane in the trailer.

In his time on Earth, Thor had studied many things. He had studied the culture, and observed the interpersonal relations between people. He had mastered some of the slang and mannerisms, taking the time to learn the nuances of the many rituals that were valued by the local populace. He had even taken to learning some of national politics and the state of international affairs. He knew popular cultures, scientific capabilities and common sense beliefs.

Of all the things he had studied, though, he knew Jane better than all the rest.

He knew when she was happy, and he knew when she was frustrated. He had studied her to discover the shifts in her mood, and when she was ignoring him willfully and when she was simply too absorbed in her work to be disturbed. He knew the way she chewed her lip when she was going over new information; he knew the way she paced the floor when coming to a conclusion.

Thor knew Jane Foster.

Knocking once, he tried the handle, knowing it would be unlocked. Gently, he cracked the door open to let himself in.

From within, he heard a mighty ruckus as something clanged together.

Thor winced and let himself in all the way, bracing himself for Jane’s inevitable volatility.

Jane was at the sink, haphazardly washing a pan. She didn’t look up as she scrubbed, shaking her head. “Did he send you in here to calm me down?”

“No,” Thor said, stepping closer but still keeping his distance in the small space. “He has also retired.”

Jane snorted. “You mean he quit,” she said derisively as she dunked the pan again. “Bowing out of the conversation; just like he’s bowing out of our work.”

Swallowing tentatively, Thor inched somewhat closer. “To be fair,” he said. “It has always been your work.”

At that, she looked up, eyes bright. “But we’ve always worked on it together!” she said. “It’s _ours_. It’s Erik’s and it’s Darcy’s and it’s yours--”

Thor shook his head. “I know little of science,” he said. “Darcy, while knowledgeable regarding many things, knows only the rudimentary facts of the phenomena you study. And while Selvig is very much your equal, we have all been supporting you in this work.”

“Oh, so I’m just sitting here and bossing you all around?” Jane asked.

“No,” Thor said. “We are here because we believe in you, and we believe in your work.”

She closed her mouth, inhaling sharply. She turned back to the sink, scrubbing at the pot again. “Then why is he taking my work and going to S.H.I.E.L.D.?” she asked. “S.H.I.E.L.D.! After what they did to me! After what they did to you? How can he do that?”

Thor stepped closer now, easing himself into her personal space. “I cannot explain his motivation, but I do not doubt him,” he said. “Erik Selvig is my friend, and he is your friend. He came to S.H.I.E.L.D. to secure my freedom, and I trust him to be a man of practical means.”

“He can do more here with us!” Jane said, putting the pan down again and turning back to Thor. “This is where he belongs!”

“Jane,” Thor said. “The things we want are not always the things that should be. We cannot let our emotions dictate our responses. If we do, we are at risk of losing everything we hold dear.”

She wanted to argue. That was in Jane’s nature, not that she was needlessly contrary but just that she never accepted anything at face value. She had the inner strength to make her own decisions.

Still, for once, Thor was right.

She sighed, shoulders sagging again. “I just don’t want him to leave,” she said. “What if I can’t do it without him?”

“Oh, Jane,” Thor said. “Of all your concerns, that one should be least them. I know you can do this with or without any of us.”

Drawing a breath, she chewed her lip. “But maybe I don’t want to. Erik, he’s always been there for me. He doesn’t just make me a better scientist – he makes me a better person.”

“I do not doubt Selvig’s honorable traits, but I assure you, you are a very good person with or without him,” Thor told her.

“But he’s more than just a teacher to me,” she admitted. “He’s been like a father. And now, he’s leaving, and I don’t even know what to do with that.”

He offered a smile. “I cannot presume to control Selvig or Darcy, but you have my word, that I will never leave you.”

Her mouth twitched, just a little. “I have your word?”

He reached out, taking her hand. “By whatever honor I have,” he vowed, pressing a kiss to her skin.

She blushed, pulling her hand away. “Okay, that’s not even fair.”

“No,” he agreed. “But it is very effective.”

-o-

He passed another hour or so in Jane’s company, letting her talk about her worries and concerns while he helped with the dishes stacked in her sink. As the hour grew late, he took his leave.

“We could go up to the roof,” she suggested.

“The offer is tempting,” he said. “But I believe we must turn our gaze earthward, just for tonight.”

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m going to need to update the entire recording system for Darcy and myself to manage without Erik. Which means I need to make it simpler or she’s totally going to go crazy with it, and--”

He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

She laughed, nodding. “And I should draw up those outlines tonight,” she said. “Good thinking.”

“Then I bid you goodnight,” Thor said, turning toward the door.

“Thor,” she said, stopping him as he turned the handle.

He looked back.

She was standing there, back against the counter, poised almost uncertainly. Jane was not a woman of doubt and indecision, nor was she one to censor her true feelings.

That said he understood the air of uncertainty, couched with a possibility neither of them were quite sure how to grasp. On Asgard, Thor had been denied nothing, and he had never been afraid to ask for what he desired.

On Earth, however, he had no station. He had little to offer, and he was more dependent on Jane that she was on him. He had a strong fondness for her, and he often thought she reciprocated such feelings. But he did not know what that meant or how to proceed. Thor had always been bold, but he was cautious around Jane, for his existence rose and set on her good graces.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said finally. “And I mean, someday, if you wanted to leave, I’d understand. But, um, until then, I’m just really glad you’re here.”

It was affectionate, in its own way. It was endearing in all the rest. It was spoken in honesty and familiarity, and though countless people had heralded him as the rightful king of Asgard, her quiet admission of acceptance meant more.

“I seek nothing else,” he told her truthfully, “except to be here with you.”

“There’s more out there, you know,” Jane said. “A lot more.”

“Indeed,” Thor said, for he knew this truth more than she could even hope to understand. “But everything the universe holds for me, I will find here. On that, I build whatever honor I have left in these realms.”

She smiled, ducking her head with another nod. “Well,” she said, glancing up at him. “Goodnight.”

As he left back into the growing night, he could only think that it was very good indeed.

-o-

With Jane working in her trailer, Thor considered getting some extra rest. Though it was the weekend, he was quite aware how fleeting his free time was. Even with the vestiges of his superhuman strength, the daily labor of his profession left him tired and sore more often. Thor was not one to complain, and he certainly was not one to take sleep over revelry, but he had grown humble enough to acknowledge the needs of this body.

Even so, he could not help but find himself on the roof.

Somehow, it was not surprising to see Selvig there, standing with his hands in his pockets, looking up.

Thor took a breath, crossing over towards the other man. “In all my time here, I have not once seen you on this roof,” he commented.

Selvig didn’t turn his gaze away. “It was always Jane’s space,” he said. “I knew she came up here to think.”

“So you are here now?” Thor asked.

Selvig looked at Thor, face pulled taut with a wry smile. “I figured maybe it was my turn.”

Thor nodded, looking not up at the stars but toward Jane’s trailer. “She is still emotional over your impending departure.”

Sighing, Selvig nodded. “I know,” he said. “It’s going to take her awhile to forgive me. I thought about asking S.H.I.E.L.D. for a bit more time, but time’s not what she needs.”

“She is a woman of strong passions,” Thor said.

Selvig chuckled. “Don’t I know it.”

“She is also a woman of reason,” Thor continued. “I think she will see that your choice is not a reflection on her.”

At that, Selvig nodded, looking out again. “She knows the stars,” he said, sounding thoughtful. “Better than I do. She’s never needed me.”

“I have seen many examples of your intellect,” Thor said. “And you offer Jane a necessary perspective.”

Selvig wrinkled his nose. “She already knows the answers to all her questions,” he said. “Asking me just helps her be sure of herself.”

“You think so little of your contributions?” Thor asked.

Selvig looked at Thor. “No,” he said. “I simply think more highly of Jane’s capabilities than she’s ready to admit.”

“I can agree with you in that much,” Thor said. “Jane Foster needs the assistance of no one.”

Selvig nodded absently, turning his gaze out again. There was a quiet, measured lull before Selvig rocked back on his heels. “She’s not the only one who needs to be reminded of her own capabilities.”

Thor watched him uncertainly.

Selvig glanced at him. “You’ve come a lot further than I would have imagined,” he said. “That night, when I told you to leave and never come back, I thought I was doing the right thing. But now, I have to admit, I’m glad you didn’t listen.”

“Jane made a compelling argument,” Thor said.

“Even so,” Selvig said. “I’ve had my doubts about you, but you’ve proven yourself. It’s not your strength, but your character. You’re a good man, Thor. I’m glad you’ll be here for her, even when I’m not.”

It was a compliment, one of the highest regard. But even as it filled him with satisfaction, he could trace the undercurrent of solemnity. Selvig was not merely leaving because Jane did not need. He was leaving because it was in Jane’s best interest.

“You care deeply for Jane,” Thor said.

“Of course I do,” Selvig said. “I dropped my entire life to come help her when the readings first started picking up. I’d do anything for her.”

“Including working for S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Thor deduced.

Selvig hesitated. “I explained earlier--”

“The people who run S.H.I.E.L.D. are not foolish,” Thor said. “They surely know the quality of Jane’s work. They would have her intellect eventually, one way or another. If not on her terms, then on theirs.”

Selvig pursed his lips, digging his hands deeper into his pocket. “They’re not thugs.”

“Nor are they entirely altruistic,” Thor said. “By accepting their offer, you can determine the nature of your partnership and give Jane the space she needs to keep her work pure.”

Saying nothing, Selvig looked up at the stars, jaw tight.

“I suppose it was foolish of all of us to think they would be put off forever,” he said. “The men in town, they have not merely been watching me.”

“And it’s not just watching,” Selvig said. “I suspect they’ve been listening in and monitoring our operation for a while now.”

The thought should not have been a realization at all. Of course they had employed advanced observations. Of course they were not going to be idle. They were keeping their distance, but Thor had seen enough to know they were capable of much more.

They could shut down Jane’s operation, coerce her into joining them. They could fire Darcy, and incarcerate Thor for the lies his new life was based on.

“You are giving yourself up for her sake,” Thor said. “For all of our sakes.”

Selvig shrugged. “They’re not the bad guy, even if they seem like it,” he said.

Thor took a breath, and his chest felt strangely tight. It was an emotion, not quite sadness and not quite regret. A fondness, tinged with bittersweet reality. The painful part of being human was getting what you needed but not always what you wanted.

“Still,” Selvig said, stealing a look at Thor. “You’re not the only one who would do anything for that girl.”

Thor did not know if he’d ever be able to tell Selvig just how grateful he was for that fact.

Instead, he stood by the man in solidarity for one last night.

-o-

In the morning, Thor rose with the sun and made poached eggs, a recipe that he knew Selvig was partial to. Everyone was up early, even Darcy, and they ate in uncertain silence.

There was no argument, however.

Finally, Jane said, “You don’t have to leave. I mean, the lab. I mean, you can still live here. It’s not a long commute.”

Selvig’s look was almost pained. “They encourage living on site,” he said. “Apparently it’s not exactly a nine-to-five kind of job.”

“I hope they pay well,” Darcy said.

“They do have an impressive benefits package,” Selvig said.

“Are you sure they’re not looking for interns?” Darcy asked.

Jane glared at her.

“What?” Darcy said. “I have some friends.”

Selvig shook his head, putting his napkin on the mostly eaten plate. “It’s for the best.”

Jane’s face bespoke her doubts, but she said nothing to rebut that fact. “Well,” she said. “You can come for dinner, at least. Every now and then.”

Selvig smiled. “I’d like that,” he said. He looked to Darcy and then to Thor. “I’d like that very much.”

“So it’s not goodbye,” Jane said with forced enthusiasm. “It is a parting of mature and intellectual minds.”

“Yeah, that sounds worse,” Darcy said.

“It’s not worse,” Jane snapped.

“I’m just saying if you’re trying to make it _not_ seem sentimental--”

“You’re so not helping,” Jane said.

“At any rate,” Thor interjected above them both. He lifted his glass of orange juice. “To Erik Selvig, comrade and friend. We wish him well in whatever endeavors he chooses.”

Jane hastily scooped up her glass, raising it to Thor’s. “To Erik.”

Darcy made a face. “This would be better with alcohol--”

Jane glared at her.

Darcy sighed, lifting her glass. “To Erik,” she said, less enthusiastically.

Selvig took a breath, lifting his own glass to clink it against theirs. “To pushing boundaries,” he said. “However and wherever we can.”

“Hear, hear,” Jane said.

Thor inclined his head.

Darcy murmured her approval.

And they drank together.

-o-

After they ate, there was little reason for fanfare. On a planet as transient as Earth, Thor supposed such things were commonplace.

Even so, the look on Selvig’s face was that of a deep ache, and as he stood at the door, bags in hand, no one seemed quite certain what to say.

It was Darcy whose sigh broke the silence with a roll of her eyes. She lifted her fingers to her head, saluting him casually. “I’m going to miss you,” she said. “You made the science make sense. Jane gets too excited to slow down.”

Selvig chuckled. “You know more than you let on,” he said. “Stay with Jane, and you may learn something yet.”

“Yeah,” Darcy said, wrinkling her nose. “I’m trying to avoid that.”

Thor stood firmly, offering his hand as was the custom on this planet. Selvig looked at it for a moment, before reaching out to take the extended hand. Thor gripped it firmly, giving one steady shake. “It has been an honor,” he said. “I, too, will miss your presence.”

Selvig nodded, letting his hand drop. “I can explain a lot of things,” he said. “But I never have been able to explain you.”

“Is that an insult?” Thor asked.

Selvig smiled. “I’m a scientist,” he said. “But with you, I’ve learned to take a little bit on faith.”

“I have always strove to be worthy of that,” Thor told him.

Selvig’s smile pulled wider. “I know.”

It was Jane who moved next, stepping between them all and crossing the distance toward Selvig. Without warning or any preamble, she threw her arms around Selvig. At first, the older man seemed surprised, and then, for a fleeting moment, pained. But he finally sighed, easing his stance and lifting his arms to return the hug.

When Jane ducked away, she sniffled, wiping her nose.

Selvig looked at her, bowing slightly to catch her eye. “If you ever need anything,” he said. “All you have to do is call.”

“Somehow I don’t think it’ll be that easy anymore,” she said with a wry laugh.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. or no S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Selvig said. “I will be here for you.”

She turned her gaze up, and her eyes were bright even as she smiled. “I know.”

Selvig smiled in return, nodding one last time. He looked at them each, and then picked up his bag. “Well,” he said. “I guess that’s that.”

No one disagreed with him, for indeed, there was nothing left to say. They did not part as enemies. They did not part with reservation. The equanimity of the decision did not make it any less painful however.

Even so, as Selvig climbed into his car and pulled away, Thor found it reassuring to have had the chance to say goodbye.

-o-

Although Selvig’s departure was heavy on Thor’s heart, he had to admit, his absence had little impact on the day to day routine in Puente Antiguo. Thor still rose early to labor hard through the daylight hours, and Jane was often consumed with work until late into the night. Darcy’s quips were no less random and jeering, and though there was one less person to comment on Jane’s latest theories, her thought process was no less effusive.

Still, there were times when Thor missed having a companion to enjoy sports with on the weekend, and Darcy complained often about having to be the “sane one” around the lab. There were moments when Jane would throw her hands in the air and cry, “Erik would know what to do!”

It was human nature, in Thor’s limited estimation. To endure and accept change so readily – and to prosper despite it.

Resiliency, it seemed, was not merely a trait of the strong.

-o-

“With the rate we’re getting readings, I wouldn’t be surprised if we can extrapolate a model,” Jane said. “And then it would only be a matter of time until we could essentially reverse engineer something to achieve a similar effect on our end.”

Thor hummed good-naturedly, not sure what else to say. They were sprawled side by side, a small fire crackling on the roof as they looked at the stars.

“I mean, I know it’s possible because it’s like a door,” she said. “It goes two ways; it has to.”

“I’m afraid the platform by which you would need to travel is very advanced,” Thor said.

“Oh, of course,” Jane said. “I mean, the first tests would just be about establishing a link. Essentially, we’d only be able to open a bridge large enough to transmit data -- or collect data, for that matter. It’d be little more than a really advanced satellite signal.”

That sounded small to Thor, hardly the monumental victory Jane might have hoped for.

She laughed, shaking her head. “Can you even imagine? What that would mean?”

He looked at her.

Her eyes were fixed on the stars. “It would change everything.”

He smiled, because he could not help but think that it already had.

Small victories were still victories, after all. Sometimes the level of the conquest could not be gauged on its cosmic scale, but its personal one.

At least, Thor could hope.

For his own sake as much as Jane’s.

-o-

There were other changes, however. People asked regarding Selvig in a vague and friendly way, and Thor shared honestly that his friend had left to pursue other ventures. For most people, that scant amount of information was all they needed to know.

The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, however, decreased in number and kept their distance. There was only a pair of them now, stationed on the main thoroughfare in town. They said nothing and did nothing, but the added space was palpable to Thor.

When he saw Selvig again, he would have to relate his thanks once more.

-o-

“Ugh, no,” Darcy said. “We are not going to sit in this lab _again_.”

Thor blinked at her earnestly. It was Friday night, and he had been very much looking forward to watching a movie with her. “I did not mean to assume--”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Aren’t you bored?” she asked. “You work all day, and you come back here and sit all night.”

“If you’re bored, then go out for a while,” Jane said from across the room. “Call one of your friends. Who’s that crazy one with the orange hair?”

“Kelly, and her hair is green now,” Darcy said. “But she lives too far away because she doesn’t want to come to this town in the middle of nowhere on a Friday night and do _nothing_.”

“Then perhaps you should go to her,” Thor suggested reasonably.

Darcy narrowed her gaze. “And you two will what, just stay here?”

“Um, I have this theory that I want to test and I just need a little more time--”

“Yeah, don’t care,” Darcy said. “Thor?”

“Well, I was going to watch a movie--”

“On cable,” Darcy said. “With commercials. I just, can’t even--”

“I enjoy the commercials,” Thor began.

Darcy shook her head. “No,” she said. “No movies on cable. No commercials.”

Thor raised his eyebrows.

Darcy got up, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling. “Come on, big guy,” she said. “We’re going out.”

Thor cocked his head, glancing at Jane.

“Don’t look at me,” Jane said.

Darcy grunted. “Wow,” she said, straining as she pulled harder. “You’re, like, massive. I think you have bricks for biceps.”

“My form is actually very weak--”

Letting go, Darcy tipped her head back in frustration. “Come on!” she cried out. “Please!”

Thor looked at Jane.

Jane shrugged. “You might have fun.”

Thor nodded, getting to his feet. “Very well then,” he said, looking at Darcy. “I will follow where you lead.”

Her expression brightened. “Really?”

Thor smiled. “Tonight,” he proclaimed. “We will have fun!”

-o-

During his time on Earth, Thor had learned quickly to let go of any expectations he might have. Instead, he chose to approach all new events as learning experiences. His role was to observe and absorb, and hope to assimilate accordingly.

Therefore, he had few expectations about what the night would actually include. At Darcy’s behest, he drove them to the next town. He was somewhat familiar with the area, having frequented for leisure and work, but she directed him beyond the establishments with which he was familiar and instructed him to park outside a small, unassuming structure.

Though it was not much to look at, it was well lit and the parking lot was full.

“Is this some sort of drinking establishment?” Thor asked, putting the car in park.

Darcy grinned. “Something like that.”

“There are other drinking establishments that are much closer to the lab,” Thor said.

“Not like this there aren’t,” Darcy said, getting out of the car.

Thor followed suit, studiously locked the car after ensuring that he had his wallet and keys readily in hand. “In what manner?”

“You’ll see,” she said. “You trust me, right?”

Darcy was somewhat unreliable in many regards. She was flippant when Jane desired her to be serious, and she was lazy whenever possible. Thor had never seen her do the dishes, and the few times she attempted to cook, it was frozen pizza or boxed macaroni and cheese.

And yet, Darcy Lewis was there when it mattered, and she had had the presence of mind to perceive him as a threat when he first arrived, raving and mad on this planet. For her oddities, she had a spirited heart, which served her well. Trust was not reserved only for those who thought and acted just as he did.

It was for all people who proved themselves worthy.

Loki had said that often, but Thor had been too errant to listen. Not that he had ever slighted his brother, but it was easy to poke holes in his ideas and use his hobbies as a punchline. Thor was not cruel -- Loki regarded Thor was similar chastisement -- but it had been easy to take Loki and his differences for granted. He had spent so much time with the Warriors Three and Sif that it had made outside opinions and new experiences mostly irrelevant to him.

That was no longer the case. His friends were lost to him, and he would see his brother no more. All he had was Darcy Lewis, Erik Selvig and Jane Foster.

Three estimable colleagues.

Three dear friends.

“Yes,” he said with a resolute nod. “I trust you implicitly.”

She beamed. “Great,” she said. “Let’s do this.”

-o-

This, as it turned out, was a vague description of what Thor could only assume was chaos. Although he had seen many bars turn rowdy with patrons who were inebriated, this was a different kind of ruckus. The man at the door had checked their identification thoroughly, stamping their hands with some strange logo before requiring a fee and allowing them to enter.

The lights were low, interspersed with flashing colors. There was a long bar along one wall, and a stage on the opposite side, and though there were a few tables along the edges of the room, the majority of the space was cleared of objects and furniture to make room for a throng of people.

What they were doing, Thor was not entirely sure. It seemed to be a vivacious social gathering, and although they were not fighting, it was not clear that it was peaceable. Everyone was moving, however, and at first Thor considered it might be some sort of training regimen. Thor would think to inquire, but it was hard to think given the amount of noise.

Not from the people, though they could be talking. But from the music. It was loud and pulsing, and though Thor had heard similar such sounds from Darcy’s iPod, the low bass sound was greatly amplified in the small space, causing a much more distinctive effect.

Clearly, the music was intended as part of the experience, for as Thor watched, the mass of people seemed to move in tandem with the beat.

Curious, Thor leaned closer to Darcy. “What is this?”

“This is dancing!” she said.

Dancing. It was not the answer Thor expected. They had dancing, to be sure, on Asgard; but it had been slower and flowing, with elegant movements and flowing garments. His people were fond of slow melodies and rich tones.

This, on the other hand, seemed somewhat like a preliminary mating ritual.

“What is its purpose?” he asked.

She looked up at him. “Seriously?”

Thor shrugged. “I’m afraid to do not understand.”

“You’re really going to say you can’t feel it?” she asked.

Thor tilted his head.

“The beat!” she said, putting a hand to his chest. “You can feel it, the minute you come inside, pounding right there.”

“Adrenaline,” Thor said. “I have similar physiological responses from exercise--”

She shook her head, pressing on his chest harder. “No way,” she said. “This is different.”

“I don’t see how--”

She rolled her eyes. “Just -- close your eyes.”

He hesitated.

She steadied her glare.

Thor sighed, and then obeyed.

With his eyes closed, she spread her palm out. “It’s not just about hearing it or even feeling it,” she said. “It’s about letting it take you away.”

“Dancing is a common pastime--”

She hushed him, jabbing his chest. “Not dancing,” she said. “It’s not some set of prescribed moves. It’s whatever the hell you want it to be. It’s about feeling the beat and doing whatever you can with it. It’s about feeling _alive._ ”

Thor listened for a moment, starting to make sense of the rhythm, listening for its predictable pattern as is thrummed in his chest. But he shook his head. “I am unschooled in this art,” he said, opening his eyes. “I will look ridiculous.”

Darcy smirked, dropping her hand. “Yeah, dumbass,” she said. “That’s basically the point.”

-o-

There were no rules to this dancing; there were also no expectations. Thor observed a wide variety of styles, and there appeared to be some who were more skilled than others. Some bobbed wildly, and others climbed on top of each other and soared across the floor on the arms of their colleagues. Others found a small space and rocked steadily to the rhythm, as they apparently saw fit.

Darcy, as it turned out, danced with wild abandon, sometimes with different partners and sometimes by herself. She drank heartily throughout the night, pausing only between songs and to take small breaks in the nearby bathroom facilities.

For his part, Thor moved self-consciously at first, taking more time at the bar than necessary. Finally, he concluded that his reluctance defeated his very purpose in coming to this place, and though it was awkward and undignified, he had to concede that everyone appeared to be having fun.

The beat was quite compelling, and with so many people around, he was hardly a source of much attention. He was just one of many, and though Thor had often found that discouraging, he realized now it could be empowering as well.

It was about feeling alive, Thor told himself.

Thor was no prince. He was no longer an Aesir. He could not fight battles; he could not rule a people.

But he could work a job. He could be a good friend. He could live a life, quiet and respectable.

And, for all that was good in this realm, he could also dance.

-o-

Thor knew none of the music. He talked little to any of his fellow patrons. He often lost sight of Darcy, checking the crowd for her intermittently for her own security. Thor did not know if he was a very good dancer. Indeed, he did not feel very adept, and there was no amount of alcohol that could dull his hesitations in this regard.

Even so, he was here.

Thor would dance to whatever music played.

And he would enjoy himself in the end.

-o-

The hour was late, or early, depending on the point of view. Though Thor was tired, he found Darcy to be much worse off. It had been her idea to leave -- “We go or I marry that guy, over there, with the mohawk, no questions asked” -- and Thor had gauged her level of inebriation and decided that going home was probably their best recourse.

She giggled as he buckled her in, only somewhat upright in the seat as Thor started the car.

“You’re kind of amazing, you know that?” she said.

“I am nothing of the sort,” he said. “Your skills, on the other hand, were most impressive tonight.”

Darcy grunted, then hiccupped. “I’m serious, though.”

“As am I,” Thor said. “When you jumped off the stage into the crowd, I thought you had lost your mind--”

“Well, I’d had about five shots by that point,” Darcy said. “So, yeah...but that’s not what I mean.”

Thor pulled the car gently out of the parking spot. “Then do enlighten me.”

“You, man,” Darcy said, jabbing a finger at his bicep. “I don’t know where the hell you actually came from, and I don’t know why you’re actually still here, but you’re so good.”

Thor raised his eyebrows. “I think you have had too much to drink.”

Darcy laughed. “Uh, yeah,” she said. “But really. You never complain. You work this terrible job with horrible hours and then you come home and are all happy to do housework and listen to Jane. I want to go out dancing, and you don’t even stop. You’re so _good_.”

Though she was drunk, her words were spoken from someplace genuine. And her honesty gave Thor reason to pause.

He had not given much thought, after all, to how he was perceived. Appearances had been important to his father, and Thor had only thought to present himself as strong and immovable as the heir to the throne.

But to be good.

To be kind.

To be honest and open hearted and willing. Thor had never given much thought to these things until he was so humbled as to find them to be all he could achieve.

To some, it seemed a lesser destiny.

Thor, however, had his doubts.

“I am only good for the goodness shown to me,” he said. “You said you wished to live, and that was why you came here. Though your methods are unschooled and raucous, your intentions are invariably noble. I find you to be quite wise, Darcy Lewis.”

She stared at him, blank faced. “Damn,” she said. “I’m drunker than I thought.”

Thor chuckled. “I will tell it to you again in the morning when your senses have recovered.”

“No,” she said. “I mean, I’m _really_ drunk. Pull over!”

Thor barely had time to get them to the side of the road before Darcy flung the door open and retched violently. When she was done, she slumped back into her seat.

“What were you saying?” she mumbled.

Thor smiled sympathetically. “Nothing that cannot wait until morning.”

-o-

They arrived back at the lab before the dawn, and Thor took the trouble of depositing Darcy on the couch. As he made his way to his room, he found Jane slumped over her work station asleep. He was contemplating whether to leave her where she lie or take her to her trailer when Jane startled awake.

She flailed, inhaling suddenly. Blinking a few times, her eyes settled on Thor.

“I just...fell asleep,” she said, as though realizing it herself.

“A riveting night?” Thor asked.

“Yes, actually,” Jane said. “I had this massive breakthrough with the equation, and I thought about taking into consideration the polarization of the atmosphere as a variable in the distance and--”

Thor did his best to be interested, but he had been without rest for quite some time.

Jane was easily preoccupied with science, but she was not without common courtesy. She stopped herself, making a sheepish expression. “It’s too late for science, isn’t it?”

“Rather, too early,” Thor told her.

“Did you guys have fun at least?”

Thor glanced to Darcy. “I believe Darcy may have had too much fun.”

Jane nodded. “That sounds about right,” she said. “She’ll sleep it off.”

“She will have to sleep at least until midday for that,” Thor observed. “For a creature so small, her capacity for heavy mead is impressive.”

“Suicidal, more likely,” Jane quipped. “And hey, midday sounds about normal for her on a Saturday.”

“She is a prolific sleeper,” Thor agreed.

Jane smiled affectionately, then looked at Thor. “What about you?” she asked. “I hope Darcy didn’t make you do anything too ridiculous.”

“To the contrary, it was a quite invigorating experience,” Thor said.

“What’d you do?”

“Dancing,” Thor said.

“Oh,” Jane said. She started to grin. “I would have liked to see that.”

“Then perhaps next time you should come,” Thor said.

“Well, perhaps I should,” she said. “That is, depending on how you dance.”

“Ah,” Thor said. “In that case, you would be better off with your equations because I am a terrible dancer.”

A tight laugh escaped Jane’s lips before she managed to stop herself. “That’s perfect, then.”

Thor looked at her questioningly.

“You can’t be good at everything,” she explained. “Having flaws makes you human.”

He considered this. In his life, he had been expected to be the best. Indeed, he had worked hard to always persevere. As the heir to the throne, anything short of perfection had been failure to him. He had internalized the expectations and embraced them as his own. Thor had not tolerated weakness in his life. He had not humored coming in second.

It had made him arrogant and single-minded.

It had led him to make war on Jotunheim.

It had brought him here.

“Well, then,” he said. “I am the most human of us all.”

She smiled. “I know,” she said. “That’s been pretty clear since the start.”

When Thor retired to his bed, he found that last comment oddly comforting. He closed his eyes and could still feel the beat of the music, hammering through his chest.

-o-

Thor awoke several hours later, fully refreshed. He found coffee already warm on the counter and a late breakfast cooking on the stove. He helped Jane finish the preparation, and then served a plate to Darcy, who was just starting to stir on the couch.

“Here,” he said. “You will require sustenance.”

Darcy grimaced, rolling away from him. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Not in the least,” Thor assured her.

“Well, please do,” she mumbled, pulling a pillow over her head. “I want to die.”

“That would be a pity,” Thor said.

Darcy peeked at him from behind the pillow. “Because you don’t want me to die?”

Thor smiled. “Because I was hoping we could go again next weekend.”

Groaning, Darcy pulled the pillow up again.

Thor patted her on the shoulder reassuringly. “Food,” he said. “For the day is young and the day is beautiful, and we have it to share with one another.”

Darcy made a guttural unintelligible noise and then lifted a single finger in reply.

Life, Thor decided, was very good.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor was still exiled, and he had nothing to show for his time away. A year had passed, and such time was but a blink of the eye on Asgard. He would be forgotten. He would be written out of history, encapsulated as a footnote on his father’s enduring legacy.

Nothing changed.

Thor still went about his work as he had for months now. It was sometimes monotonous work, and it was physically demanding. But Thor found life familiar in this, for he had always thrived with a training regimen. Once he had wielded weapons to destroy; now he took up tools to create. His comrades often remarked that it was a life with few rewards, but Thor found the pleasure of simple company and the satisfaction of seeing a job through to its completion to be rewarding enough.

Around town, he grew more integrated with the people. He had a favorite dish at the diner, and he was the first person many townsfolk remembered in times of need. He lifted heavy objects and plucked kittens from high trees. He helped people move, and learned to fix simple plumbing leaks and electrical issues. They thanked him heartily, and Thor remembered what it was to be needed.

He spent his free time with Jane and Darcy, sometimes helping with their research while other times simply offering whatever support he could. He learned to cook many things, and became fastidious in his cleanliness. Between the three of them, only Thor had the attention and inclination to keep the lab in tolerable condition, and Thor did not think himself too big to complete such simple tasks.

It was not all work, of course. He learned much of the local pastimes, especially the sports. He passed many evenings in the local bar, discussing the likelihood of the Diamondbacks making the World Series and the Cowboys finding success in their offensive game. He had a tab, which he used carefully; and though he was fond of mead, he learned something of moderation.

Though he enjoyed his time out, his time with Jane and Darcy was still more favorable. Though Jane worked longer hours these days with the favorable readings, they still made ample time for recreation. Not that they needed much. Jane dreamed of big, impossible things, but she liked simple pleasures and unassuming thrills. They laughed and watched television. They listened to music and took trips around town. They shared many good memories.

When the weather was calm and Thor found himself still awake, he still joined Jane on the roof. They discussed the stars, for it was a topic she never seemed to weary of. She would drift off to sleep, curled against him in the chilled night, and he stayed still and awake, planting a gentle kiss to her head in thanks. They often woke like that, still pressed together in the earliest rays of sunlight from the east.

They shared a good life.

In this, nothing had changed.

To Thor, though, it felt like everything had changed.

-o-

It was Jane who remembered the upcoming anniversary, but it was Darcy who suggested the celebration.

“You’ve been here almost a year!” Darcy said. “I honestly don’t know how anyone survives in this town for a year, but you have done it with gusto. If that doesn’t deserve a night of indulgence, then I don’t know what does.”

“That would be unnecessary,” Thor said, as politely as possible. He knew much of Darcy’s interest was for her own benefit, and Thor did not like to deny people simple indulgences. However, the date of his arrival on Earth was somewhat auspicious to him. It was true that he found his life mostly satisfying as it was, but the anniversary also reminded him of what he had lost.

It was not just the day he arrived on Midgard, after all. It was also the day he’d been banished from his homeworld, stripped of his title and his power and exiled from his friends and family _forever_.

“Aw, come on,” Darcy said. “You don’t talk about your birthday, so this is the next best thing. We can get a cake, buy some beer--”

“We may do all those things without a celebration,” Thor reminded her.

“But it’s not the _same_.” Darcy said. “It’s a party! Everyone loves a party!”

Thor did love parties. On Asgard, he had reveled in them for days. Sometimes, after a successful conquest, the halls of his father’s palace were alight for days with the levity. Thor, in his prime, had been at the center of it all.

Sometimes it felt like he’d spent more time in celebration on Asgard than his entire year on Midgard comparatively.

He shook his head. “I have done nothing worthy of a celebration.”

“We celebrate the day people are born,” Darcy reminded him. “Like it’s some feat that they managed to have their mother push them out.”

It was a peculiar human gaiety, he had noted. Birthdays were of course noted on Asgard, but after centuries celebrating the date of one’s own birth had seemed superfluous at best. With limited years, Thor could only imagine the yearly commemoration carried more of an impact.

“You know, I agree with Darcy on this one,” Jane chimed in.

Thor’s brow creased, somewhat surprised.

Darcy clapped her hands triumphantly. “Ha!”

“But Jane!” Thor started to protest.

“It’s kind of an important day,” she said. “I mean, think about it. A year ago, you fell out of the sky and I hit you with a car. You completely changed my research, and you’ve changed life for everyone in Puente Antiguo.”

Thor shook his head. “You are being overly dramatic--”

“It’s not even the big things,” she said. “It’s the way you fit in. The way you fix things; the way everyone knows your name. It’s like you belong here, and I see no reason not to celebrate that.”

“I do not seek attention,” Thor said.

“Which is sort of why you deserve a party,” Jane said. “Look, you’ve cooked and you’ve cleaned and you’ve gotten a job and you’ve helped us with work and you’ve never asked for anything in return. This would be our way of, I don’t know, letting you know we appreciate you.”

Thor took a measured breath. “Your words are appreciation enough.”

“Uh uh,” Darcy said. “Appreciation is at least two kegs and a sheet cake for fifty.”

“And we can grill out,” Jane said. “Maybe we could even get Erik to come.”

“He’s the only one who can turn on the grill, so I hope so,” Darcy snarked.

Thor was dubious. “I still think a celebration is unnecessary.”

Darcy wrinkled her nose. “Um, isn’t that is kind of the point?”

Thor sighed, though he could tell this was an argument he was going to lose. “I still see nothing I have contributed to warrant this.”

“You’re _here_ ,” Jane said. “That’s why we celebrate birthdays. Because we want to remember how grateful we are that people are here. That we’re glad they’re in our lives, and that we wouldn’t have it any other way. Birthdays are a way to remember that the world would be a worse place without you in it. So yeah, they’re stupid and superficial and, I don’t know, kind of pointless. But I don’t know -- a lot of life is like that. It’s the small things that matter.”

The small things. 

Such were the only things that Thor had left. For he had been cast out of greatness and resigned to stay here among beings he once thought of as lesser than himself. There had been a time he had celebrated great conquests and sought honor for profound feats among his kin.

He had nothing of that here.

All he had was his very existence, and he often found that to be meager. Even among these mortals with their short lives and small capabilities, he was nothing of note. He was _nothing_.

Except for what had been imbued upon him by those around him. His meaning was no longer founded on what he could accomplish, but the friends he made.

He could still remember standing outside the throne room with Loki, having his brother wish him luck at the coronation. He had been so expectant, ready to prove himself to those he would rule. It had been his day of triumph; a celebration that no one would forget.

At least, he had thought.

It was so fleeting to him now. The people had cheered, but their adulation did not compare to this. From Jane and Darcy, it was not undying loyalty and unbidden praise.

No, this was something far different.

This was the stuff of real friendship.

The stuff of family.

The ways of love.

These were the things he had neglected on Asgard, and the oversight had caused him to forfeit everything else. He had forgotten what it was like to have the love of a brother, the respect of a father, the concern of a mother.

He had forgotten the small things and forfeited the larger.

Not this time.

With a small, pained smile, Thor forced himself to nod. “Very well, then,” he said. “I suppose a small celebration cannot be too much.”

Jane’s face broadened with a grin. “Great,” she said. “It’ll be really simple.”

“We won’t even hit you with a car this time!” Darcy added.

Jane glared at her. “Or tase you.”

Thor had to laugh. “That sounds like a very good place to start.”

-o-

As a prince, Thor had attended many parties but he knew very little of how to put one together. In his privilege, he had never given it much thought. If he had been in want of food or entertainment, he had merely to request it and it happened.

Such things were not so easy on Earth.

After Thor had agreed to allow such a celebration, he had expected little disruption to his daily life. Jane had insisted that it would be simple and had indicated that it would be small.

But the next day, he found Darcy and Jane conferring in hushed tones. When he approached, they quickly changed their topic of conversation, watching him carefully until he was out of earshot again.

At first, Thor thought perhaps this was a coincidence. But when it happened several more times over the course of the next two days, his suspicions began to deepen. Finally, when he asked Jane what she was discussing, she told him it was nothing of his concern.

Normally, Thor did not doubt Jane Foster, for she was a good and honest woman.

However, Thor was oblivious, out of touch and sometimes obtuse. He was not, however, completely stupid.

He sighed. “I thought this was going to be a simple celebration,” he said.

She blinked up at him innocently. “I never said--”

Thor raised his eyebrows. “I know of everything else regarding your work and life,” he said. “In my time with you, you have showed no interest in keeping anything from me.”

Jane laughed, forced and overly grand. “Oh, I have secrets--”

“That you share with Darcy and not me?” Thor asked.

“It could be girl...stuff,” Jane said, trailing off awkwardly.

Thor kept his gaze on her.

“Or something,” Jane fumbled.

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, he’s not going to believe that,” she said.

Thor lifted his chin triumphantly.

“Just like you shouldn’t have believed us when we said it’d be small,” Darcy said. “I mean, really. This town is tiny. All we do is science. I will take any reason to buy the liquor store out of stock, and this is really too good to pass up.”

Thor’s triumphant gaze fell.

Jane gave Darcy a look.

Darcy shrugged. “Or we could sit around a little longer pretending,” she said. “But I figured this was easier.”

Jane’s mouth fell open.

Thor shifted uncomfortably. “Well,” he said. “Very well, then.”

Jane closed her mouth, looking up at him. “I. Um.”

Darcy groaned. “How am I really the only one mature enough to handle this right now?”

“You’re never mature,” Jane said.

“Which is why this is so painfully unprecedented,” Darcy said. She shook her head. “Look, Thor, Jane wants to surprise you. Jane, Thor’s not sure what to expect and that makes him nervous. I can assure you both, there will be drinking and music and friends -- and whatever the hell else you two want out of it, that’s entirely up to you.”

Thor looked at Jane.

Jane, on the other hand, looked astutely at her hands.

“Now,” Darcy said. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a party to plan. If it’s not awesome, then it’s certainly not going to be for _my_ lack of effort.”

With that, Darcy stalked off.

Jane laughed nervously, fiddling with her hair as she stole a glance at Thor. “What’s up with her, right?”

Thor cleared his throat. “I certainly have no idea.”

There was a pause that lingered. Thor pressed his lips together. “Well, then--”

Almost simultaneously, Jane said, “I should really--”

They both stopped, laughing.

“I will let you get back to it,” Thor finally said, as magnanimously as he could.

“It really will be good,” Jane promised.

Thor nodded. “With you,” he said. “I have no doubt.”

-o-

Jane and Darcy continued on in their plans for the rest of the week. They showed no signs of abating. In truth, this was as excited as Thor had ever seen Jane regarding a topic not related to science.

To Thor, this was both flattering and disconcerting. He hardly understood the point, though he would never say no to anything she felt so passionate about. He had always taken such things for granted -- affection and adulation -- and now to have it heaped upon him so freely again, he became aware of its insidious implications.

It had been so easy on Asgard, to wallow in the praise. He had never felt out of place when thrust into the limelight. At the celebrations, he had basked in the glory and had not hesitated to partake in more than his share of honor when tales of victory were told.

Sometimes, such inclinations were still tempting. The way he was lauded around town; the utter devotion displayed by his friends. He could not deny that he enjoyed the compliments of others, and it was so easy to come by such things on a planet such as this. Even stripped of his Asgardian power, he still easily outclassed his fellow mortals, and he had moments when he thought himself better.

When he thought himself to be _worthy_.

That was the danger. That was the reason his penance was so just. Because Mjölnir was still abandoned and desolate in the desert, an enduring testament to all that Thor still had to learn.

This party was not a reflection on him. It was a reflection of those he called friends. That was reason to celebrate.

It was the only reason.

-o-

To compensate, Thor worked harder that week. He logged as many extra hours as he could, and he made himself readily available around town for any odd jobs that he could find. He swept floors and fixed chairs: anything to remind himself of his station.

One of the neighbors needed a new roof on their shed, and Thor worked through the dinner hour to pound in the new slates. He positioned the nails, holding them steady with one hand while taking up his hammer in the other. The hilt was small in his hand, and its weight was too light, but every movement drained him more.

He finished when it was dark and the wan light of the moon spilled over the town. Putting his tools away, his fingers ached around the hammer, burning with need and want. It had been a year, he knew. A year since he had taken up Mjölnir, since he had felt the power surge through him. He could still remember it, though, like it was yesterday. The might and exhilaration, knowing he was the strongest in all the realms.

The simple pleasure of being _worthy_.

There was nothing to be done for it. When he was offered a meal as compensation for his task, he politely declined and made the walk home in the dark, flexing his restless fingers the whole way home.

-o-

By the end of the week, Thor was feeling withdrawn. He excused himself and went to bed early, trying not to be displeased when Jane did not request him to stay up with her.

The next day, Thor attempted to not sulk, but when he made a to-do about going out, no one stopped him.

It was just as well, Thor told himself as he worked out at the gym.

Whatever discomfort he felt was entirely his own fault.

This was all Thor’s own fault.

A year ago, he marched to Jotunheim by his own stupidity.

A year ago, he was exiled to pay the price for the weight of his errors.

_A year,_ and nothing had changed.

Thor was still exiled, and he had nothing to show for his time away. A year had passed, and such time was but a blink of the eye on Asgard. He would be forgotten. He would be written out of history, encapsulated as a footnote on his father’s enduring legacy.

Did his people suffer? Did his friends still fight for him? Did Loki fare better under their father’s treatment? Did his mother mourn him?

Would Mjölnir ever be held aloft again?

Thor did not know.

Worse still, he had no right to know.

A year had passed, but it might as well been a lifetime. One year, two years, three years: away from Asgard, these measures were small and meaningless.

Much like Thor.

The mighty Thor.

Lifting weights like a common mortal, in a 24-hour fitness center with nominal monthly charges. He showered in communal showers and retrieved beverages from a vending machine.

The mighty had fallen.

And there was no way to go back up.

-o-

When he arrived back home, the lab was quiet. Thor was tired with his hair still damp and his gym bag slung over his shoulder. He had no desire for anything except another glass of water and something full of protein to tide him through the adrenaline crash of his vigorous physical exercise. His mother would lecture him that sulking was not befitting a prince, but as his father had made quite clear, Thor was no longer a prince.

He would sulk all he want.

Protein be damned; he would have ice cream instead!

He let himself inside, slinging the gym bag down. In the late afternoon, the sunlight was dim through the lab, so he reached over and turned on the light.

And the whole room came alive.

People leapt up from behind chairs and benches, wearing diminutive hats and smiling as they cheered, “Surprise!”

Thor stopped, blinking in total shock. There were several waitresses from the diner; Paul from the hardware store. Other business owners and some of their neighbors and Eddie from the gym. Even a few of his companions from work were there, along with Selvig and Darcy.

And Jane.

She was beaming, looking right at him. Her eyes were bright with enthusiasm, her face alive with something Thor could only describe as joy.

She was happy; she was content; she was enthralled, all on his behalf.

He did not deserve it. He had done nothing to warrant it. Yet, it could not be denied.

Jane had done this for him. She had gathered people who cared about him to celebrate his mere presence in their lives.

It took only an instant, and Thor understood the value of birthday parties.

Moreover, he understood the depth of Jane’s feelings.

He was not merely a visitor. He was not some part of her life that she tolerated. She cared for him with a love that could not be earned.

Thor had many reasons to sulk, this much was true. All of those, however, were his own fault.

On the other hand, Thor had only one very good reason to feel grateful. And that was something he was being offered freely and with no reservations.

He would be foolish not to take it.

Smiling, he laughed. “Friends!” he said. “This is very unexpected. And certainly not necessary.”

Jane came forward, taking his hand. “Well, at lot of things aren’t necessary,” she said. “But that doesn’t make them any less important.”

“Unlike alcohol,” Darcy said, handing Thor a bottle of beer. “Which is both important _and_ necessary.”

“Well spoken,” Thor said, holding his bottle aloft to the crowd. “To my friends.”

There was applause and a chorus of _hear, hear_.

Then someone turned on the music, and Thor could smell meat cooking on the grill.

Jane squeezed his hand, offering him a smile.

Thor squeezed her hand back, for maybe there was a reason to celebrate after all.

-o-

It was a far cry from the grandiose feasts on Asgard. The food, though good, was simple. The lab offered no space for a grand dining hall, and many of the guests supplied appropriate side dishes to share. They ate off of paper plates and drank from plastic cups, with Darcy’s music enlivening the party from the background.

Selvig manned the grill, and Darcy kept things lively. Thor made his way from person to person, talking to them about how grateful he was that they came and thanking them for their hospitality.

He caught sight of Jane quite often, seeing her tending the food table or talking to a guest, but she stole as many glances at him as he did of her.

Thor had lost much in the last year.

But standing among those he called friends, he knew he had gained much as well.

-o-

The party lasted into the evening, though the small crowd dissipated by nine PM. Thor started to go about collecting the trash, which was strewn across the lab, when Darcy shook her head.

“You’re not supposed to clean up after your own party,” she said.

“You did all the set up,” Thor replied. “It is the least I can do.”

Darcy flopped to the couch. “Tall, blonde, muscular and a housekeeper,” she said. “You are basically like a gift from heaven.”

Thor chuckled, sorting the beer cans into the recycling bin. “I had a very enjoyable time,” he said.

Darcy shrugged. “It was no all-night dance party or anything, but we did the best we could.”

“It was quite good indeed,” Thor assured her.

“I’m serious, though,” she continued, sinking deeper into the cushions. “No cleaning.”

“But it is--”

“It is a bother,” Darcy said. “To me. Jane’s been running me ragged for this thing. I am going to sit here on this couch and sleep.”

“It is only nine PM,” Thor pointed out.

“So I’ll only have to sleep until nine AM to get twelve hours,” Darcy said. “That’s perfect.”

Thor knew better than to think she was joking. Instead, he threw the last handful of garbage away. “Very well,” he said. “Thank you again, Darcy Lewis. Your friendship is quite meaningful to me.”

Eyes closed, she lifted a hand in a sloppy salute. “You keep things real around here, big guy,” she said. “Any time.”

Thor watched her settle back into rest. She was unlike anyone he had met on Asgard or Earth, but he could not help but think Loki would enjoy her caustic mannerisms and offbeat sense of humor. It was nice to have someone on the outside of the expected to keep him well and truly grounded. If only he had appreciated Loki, while he still had the privilege.

But then, he might never have met Darcy, and that, he decided, would have been a true disappointment.

-o-

With Darcy attempting to sleep in the lab, Thor made his way outside where Selvig was cleaning up the grill. In the few short months since Selvig had parted from their company, the man had grown older it seemed. The changes were subtle, with deepening lines around his eyes and a whitening of his hair. It was somewhat unsettling to see, just how much a human could wither away while Thor was not paying attention. It was the fate of mankind to be fleeting, and Thor had never had delusions otherwise.

Even now, it did not give him pause for his own sake. But the thought that Selvig would depart this existence ahead of him with so much left undone was hard to grasp.

“You look serious,” Selvig said, glancing up as he scrubbed a brush over the surface of the grill. “It’s a party, you know.”

“The party is over,” Thor replied.

Selvig lifted his eyebrows. “And that was a joke.”

Thor smiled gently. “I am glad you came, Selvig.”

“Of course I came,” Selvig said, standing up straight again. “You’re my friend, after all.”

“I feel that title has been hard won,” Thor said.

Looking out across the land towards Jane’s trailer, Selvig sniffled a little. “I am a loyal person,” he said. “I don’t make friends easily, but once I do…”

Thor inclined his head. “You have much wisdom.”

Selvig nodded, allowing the silence to linger for a moment. He chewed the inside of his lip, and then turned his gaze back to Thor. “I trust you, Thor,” he said. “You know that.”

“You have made this sentiment clear to me.”

Selvig took a breath, letting it out heavily. “It’s been hard to explain,” he said. “I’ve been so worried about Jane that sometimes I lost perspective.”

“Perspective?”

“Jane’s not the only person involved with this,” Selvig said. He pursed his lips, sighing again. “My time at S.H.I.E.L.D. has been...most informative.”

Thor was uncertain where this conversation was headed. He did not bring up the topic of S.H.I.E.L.D. with anyone, and he had tried to shut out his encounter with that organization from his mind as much as possible. It was not a question of trust or distrust, but a self-defense mechanism. His time at S.H.I.E.L.D. had been the lowest of his life. His failure to lift the hammer had been a mighty blow, one he might not have recovered from without the help of his friends on Earth.

“Jane has more concrete data than they do,” he said. “And her grasp of the bridge far exceeds theirs, but Jane’s focus is almost entirely scientific.”

“There is another focus?” Thor asked, a little hesitant.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. has a wide view of things,” he said. “Not just the science, but the political and social implications. Their theories about the bridge are still a work in progress, but their theories about you….”

Thor stiffened involuntarily.

Selvig shrugged. “I’ve always suspected,” he said. “But the evidence they’ve put together is compelling. I never would have made as many parallels as they have. You’re not a mad man, Thor.”

Thor swallowed hard. “That would be the easier answer.”

“No doubt,” Selvig said. “But with everything S.H.I.E.L.D. knows, they still have the same question about you: why? Why would you be here? Why would the Norse god of thunder stay among mortals?”

To hear the title, to feel his identity so truly confirmed -- it evoked feelings Thor did not wish to have. It was pride and regret; it was uncertainty and doubt. “You assume it is a choice,” he said finally, voice flat in the growing night.

Selvig nodded, as if this was something he may have expected. “I don’t suppose you want to talk about it?”

Thor looked at Selvig, almost considering the offer. He trusted Erik Selvig; he counted this man amongst his most loyal friends.

And yet, there was nothing to say.

There was nothing he wished to explain.

He shook his head. “It was another life,” he replied. “Whether I mourn it or not, it is no longer mine to consider.”

Selvig nodded again. “I can respect that,” he said, starting to clean the grill again. “There is one more thing, though.”

Thor waited.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t a bad organization,” he said. “But it’s not idle. They’re not just here to watch Jane, you know.”

“I am of no value to them,” Thor said.

“The god of thunder, even stripped down to mortal form -- that’s valuable, Thor,” he said. “In more ways than you might be able to realize.”

“I wish them no ill will, but I have no desire--”

Selvig paused again, holding up his hand. “I know, I know,” he said. “I just wanted you to be aware.”

Thor nodded, though he did feel a pang of inexplicable trepidation.

“And Thor,” Selvig said. “Just know you’re not doing this alone.”

“I do not wish to put Jane or Darcy in any position--”

Selvig gave him a look. “I didn’t just join S.H.I.E.L.D. for Jane.”

Thor looked at Selvig, who looked back unflinchingly. The implication was not hard to discern but the sentiment caught him completely off guard.

He had friends that would house him and feed him. He had friends that would teach him and be patient with him. He had friends that would throw him a party.

He had friends that would protect him.

In his youth, Thor had thought heroes were only made on battlefields.

Now he could see that heroes came in many shapes and sizes.

He extended his hand. Selvig looked surprised, but reached out to grasp it.

Thor shook it with a steadfast nod. “I find that I am again in your debt,” he said.

Selvig smiled. “Anytime, Thor,” he said. “After all, what else are friends for?”

-o-

Thor offered to help, but Selvig had declined. He said that small, normal things were the things he missed at S.H.I.E.L.D., and apparently Selvig needed such things at the moment.

Thor was not one to argue. At least not anymore. If living for a year on Midgard had taught him anything, it was that certain things in life simply must be accepted. In the bigger picture, retiring with idle hands was entirely insignificant, though not altogether without its trials. 

It was late but Thor did not feel tired. The very opposite, in fact. The celebration had left him with the desire for... _something_.

What, he did not know. It was a strange, poorly defined sensation, nagging in the pit of his stomach and lurking in the back of his mind. Thor had never been one for doubt, and he had never been one to think too much. His father had lectured him often on his impulsivity, and his mother had decried his lack of forethought many times.

Thor, of course, had never listened.

He had always been one to learn from experience.

Even so, he was not sure what to do with this feeling or even what it meant at all. After spending a night in the company of those he called friends, he had almost forgotten all the rest. He had almost forgotten the ill-fated trip to Jotunheim, the war he’d started and the rage in his father’s voice before he’d been cast out. It had almost not mattered, as though his existence was no longer defined by that last failure.

For it had not been his last. No, in the year since then, Thor had failed many things. True, he had not started a war and he had not been banished from another realm, but the day-to-day failures still carried weight.

As did the successes.

Mostly, Thor realized, he was no longer that same person. The people around him had never known that man, and indeed, Thor would hardly recognize him either.

With nothing to do, Thor did not think he could sleep. Darcy was now asleep in the main room, so Thor sought a refuge of his own in the place he found most comforting.

On the roof, Thor looked up to the stars. He enjoyed the private space of his room, but the roof had always been more than that. Here, beneath the vastness of space, Thor had always been forced to remember from where he had come. It had been a steadfast reminder of all the truths that he still wished to forget. The things he did not wish to know.

What it was to be so small and insignificant. To be _nothing_.

Standing there, one year later, this sky was still the same. The innumerable stars stretched above him, endless and bright. He would never see them as Jane did, with the scientific minutia. But, with a steadying breath, he began to realize why she found them so comforting.

To be small and insignificant meant that mistakes were mere ripples in the universe. To be nothing meant there were no expectations.

It meant he could be anything.

This planet, these people, this life -- it was a wealth of possibilities. If he could not travel amongst the stars, he could settle amongst good people. If he could not fight battles for in the name of Asgard, he could defend the benevolence of his neighbors. He could build things; he could share drinks; he could lend a hand.

He could be human.

It was given to him as a curse.

A year later, he looked up at the stars and wondered if it was something of a gift instead.

The wars and the conquest, they were nothing to Thor now. They were specks, distant lights, as small and insignificant as Thor himself.

Thor was a legend once.

Now, he was just a man.

If he could not live up to one, he would devote all he had to the other. And he would not trade that now.

Not for all the stars in the sky.

-o-

Thor was not certain how long he stood there, head turned up, but he was not surprised to hear the sound of footsteps behind him.

“Hey.”

Thor smiled, dropping his gaze and turning.

Jane was standing across the roof, shuffling her feet and using one hand to fiddle absently with her hair.

“Hey,” he replied.

“I thought you’d have gone to sleep,” she said, making her way closer to him.

“I felt guilty with you and Selvig still working,” he said.

She rolled her eyes, smiling shyly. “It was your party,” she reminded him. “You don’t do work for your own party.”

“So I’m told,” he said.

She chuckled, shaking her head as she came up alongside him. “Haven’t you ever had anyone throw you a party before?”

Thor’s stomach twisted at the question, and he had to make an effort not to let his smile falter. “To the contrary, I have had many parties thrown in my honor.”

“So it shouldn’t be so hard,” Jane surmised. “To accept a little goodwill from those who care about you.”

This time, Thor’s smile did fall and his throat felt tight. He glanced at her, feeling a pang of hesitation. “I never used to think of it at all,” he said. “There was a time when I took it for granted. I even expected it, and thought nothing of the effort it must have taken.”

Jane’s own smile fell. “You mean...before…”

Thor took a breath, looking up again. “Before.”

There was a silence, much as there always was when they talked of Thor’s life prior to the night he arrived on Earth. Although Thor told Jane of all the realms and the ways they were all connected, they did not talk about the life Thor had left. He had told her the names of the planets and the nature of each realm, but he had never made it personal. He had not told her of his station on Asgard or the power of his father’s halls. He had not talked of war on Jotunheim, or any of his other foolish conquests.

He had kept nothing of the science from Jane, but he had kept his life, his history -- _himself_ \-- a secret from her. At first, because he had not thought he would see her again. Then, because of the shame of failure. In the weeks and months that followed, because there had been seemingly no point. Because it would sound crazy; because maybe it was crazy.

Because maybe it hurt.

He sighed, looking at Jane again. “Do you not have questions of me?”

She looked at him, a little taken aback. “I’ve asked you just about everything I could think of--”

He shook his head. “Not of the stars,” he said. “ _Of me._ ”

She stopped, her breath catching for just a second as the implications settled over her. Jane Foster was a smart woman; she no doubt had many accurate suspicions regarding him. It was probably only respect that kept her from needing concrete answers from him. “Well,” she said. “I mean, yeah.”

“Yet you will not ask?” he said. “You will not seek to know more about me?”

“You have your reasons,” she said, shrugging one shoulder.

“But you have accepted me into your life,” he said. “You have treated me like family, and yet there is so much, Jane. There is so much you don’t know.”

Her eyes searched him. “I know what I need to know, Thor,” she said. “I know you’re a good man. I know you work hard, and you’ve learned so much. Who we are is not a list of facts. It’s not even a backstory. It’s who we are in the moment. The choices we make now.”

He knitted his brows together. She was offering him the easy out again. She would not press him in this, and she was a kind person for this grace. But Thor may not have been ready to tell this to Selvig. He may never be able to tell anyone. But Jane was different.

Jane, who had trusted him from the beginning. 

She had accepted him; she had given him shelter and refuge. His father had cursed him to humanity, but she had made him _human_.

“You deserve to know,” he said. “I cannot give you all the answers to unlock the mysteries of the stars. I cannot advance your research or promote your cause among your people. But I can give you this one last thing, which I trust to no one but you.”

She watched him, eyes fixed on him.

“I will tell you the truth,” he said. “Because you have known me for a full year, but I have lived a lifetime before that.”

“Well, so have I--”

Thor shook his head. “A lifetime on Asgard can span for millennia,” he said. “The legends of your forefathers that speak of gods are not fantasies. They are idealized interpretations, not even of my ancestors. Of my family and my kin. Of me.”

Her mouth closed, her face darkening in thought.

“I am Thor,” he told her resolutely. “The god of thunder which your myths depict. In this, I am not merely an alien to this world. I am the son of Odin, who keeps order in the nine realms and has sat on the throne of Asgard for centuries.”

She wet her lips. “I suppose I knew that,” she said, with an awkward laugh. “I mean, we’ve all heard the legends. Thor’s hammer. Selvig even showed me the book when he was trying to show me you were crazy.”

“We are not gods, but there is much truth to your legends,” he said. “Asgard has sought to keep order amongst the realms, and I was raised in the golden halls with the sole purpose of inheriting the throne and assuming that cause for myself when my father was ready to retire.”

At that, she balked a little. “Wait,” she said. “You’re saying that you’re not just an alien. You’re royalty. Like, the prince of Asgard. Or, you know, whatever.”

He nodded, but drew his lips together. “It is true,” he said. “At least, it was.”

She shook her head. “What happened?”

“Surely you must presume to know something,” he said. “For if you gave the legends any credence, what would a prince of Asgard be doing amongst the mortals of Midgard?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Members of royalty are people, too. You may have to sow your wild oats. Or something.”

Thor let out a heavy breath. “I have sowed many oats, as you say,” he said. “Which is how I ended up here; but not as you presuppose. In my haste, I disobeyed my father and provoked a conflict that has threatened the realms as we know them. In my folly, I may have destroyed the peace that all planets have enjoyed for centuries.”

Jane frowned, but clearly did not know what to say.

Thor’s shame burned in him, but he forced himself to continue. “That is why I have come here, not by choice,” he said. “My father stripped me of my power and my title and exiled me to this planet. He sent my hammer, once the testament of my worth, as a sign that I am no longer the man I was. I have lost my father’s favor and the comforts of my home. I have forfeited the rights to my inheritance. I have lost the kinship of everyone I held dear. My mother, my brother, my friends and my people--”

He cut off, forcing himself to swallow.

“Your people thought of me as a god,” he said. “Even you entertain the notion that I am a good man. But I am nothing of the sort. I am a lowly, rejected being, unworthy of position, title and friendship. And this punishment is just, and it is entirely my own fault.”

Her eyes widened.

“So you see, Jane,” he said, voice threatening to break. “I am not the man you thought I was. I stand here with you every night. I live by the very nature of your good graces. But I am unworthy of your friendship. I want to live in peace among you, I want to give you something in return for your kindness, but there is nothing I can do to earn any of the affections you have shown me. Every time I think I can let go and accept my penance, I see the stars and I am reminded not of who I was, but who I am.”

It hurt to speak, the pain radiating from his chest and tightening in his throat and behind his eyes. He had nothing left, nothing to hide, nothing to offer. He had given her everything he could in the last year, culminating in the truth.

That he was unworthy.

That weight was as heavy as it was a year ago, when his father had cast him out.

Jane’s expression broke, her shoulders falling. “Thor…” she said.

Ashamed, Thor tried to turn away. “I am sorry--”

“No,” she said, reaching out and taking him by the arm. When he stopped, she reached up, putting her hands on his face. He had no choice but to look at her. “Thor.”

In her eyes, there was no condemnation. There was no judgment.

There was still the same acceptance and kindness he had always come to recognize in her.

And, it seemed, there might be something more.

“Thor,” she said again. “I know you well enough. I know _you_.”

“Jane,” he tried to reply, but found himself choked.

She swallowed hard, eyes bright in the starlight. “Thor.”

Tears threatened to break him, but she squeezed his arm. Once and then twice. And before he could break, she reached up, putting her hand in his hair and pulling him down until their lips met.

Acceptance and kindness, he knew.

And this, he realized as he kissed her back, haltingly putting his hands to her face and drawing her nearer still, was greater than both.

One year after falling from honor, Thor had found something more valuable than the crown, more important than kingship.

Thor had found love.

One year ago, Thor had lost everything.

Tonight, however, Thor had found the one thing he needed.

He wrapped his arms around Jane, lifting her up.

For he would never, ever, let go again.

-o-

Jane retired early, and Thor found the lab quiet. In his room, he readied for bed, but he could not put his mind at ease. Too much had transpired; too much was left undisclosed.

Too much.

Restless, Thor took a walk, pacing down the long stretches of the road in Puente Antiguo. When that did not satisfy him, he followed the road out into the country until he found himself at the blocked roadway that led to the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility.

It had been more thoroughly developed since Thor had last visited. The barricades were no longer temporary, and the lights were mounted with a fence surrounding the area. From this vantage point, the facility was nothing but a speck in the distance, so thorough was the security checkpoint in place. Even so, Thor kept his distance, noting the armed guards at the gate on the access road. They looked imposing, but Thor did not fear them. Even in this mortal form, he knew they were of little competition. If Thor wanted to, he could enter.

He could go in to take what was his.

Even now, standing alone in the night, he could _feel_ it. Though Mjölnir was stuck to the rock, it was not dormant. Its power sung to him, calling him forth with the insistent pull he had known even as a small child. He could still remember, though centuries had passed, the thrill of first lifting it, of taking up the hilt and feeling the power connect with him.

It had been the most important moment of his life. It had changed him.

It had defined him.

Holding the hammer, he had known his purpose. He had felt his calling, feeling it pulse through every fiber of his being.

Of all the things he had lost, he would never be so foolish as to say the hammer hurt the most -- no, for he missed his family and his friends dearly. But the loss of Mjölnir had changed him more than the rest. When he had come to take it up and reclaim his identity, the hammer had rebuffed him and only then had Thor understood the reality of his current station.

Even now, with his acceptance of life on Earth, it called to him. He could feel it, the desire burning through him. His hand ached, fingers tingling in desire and anticipation.

He could go after it. He could go in and seek his station again.

But to what end.

Standing at the edge of a dead end road, Thor knew there was nothing to be done. No matter what he wanted, he could not fight the reality of his fate. Mjölnir would always call to him, but it was no longer his to take up.

It was _no longer his_.

He took a breath and let it out.

Then he fisted his hand, building up the energy and letting it out.

This was not the only thing that called to him. Not anymore.

He looked back toward town, where Jane and Darcy and Selvig and Puente Antiguo were.

In the end, it was no choice at all.

Releasing his fist, he shook out his hand. Then he turned and started the long walk back to town, flexing his fingers the whole way home.

-o-

Despite the happenings of the weekend, life resumed much as it was the following week. Thor went to work; he came back to the lab. Selvig returned to S.H.I.E.L.D., and Jane labored under the stars with Darcy’s help.

“There’s something happening,” Jane said excitedly over dinner. “These readings, they’re even more dramatic than when you showed up a year ago. I mean, it has to be only a matter of time before we have some kind of event that we can pinpoint, which is just going to blow this whole thing wide open.”

Thor raised his eyebrows, serving a helping of steaming food to each of their plates. “What sort of event do you envision?”

“Maybe it’ll be another hot guy tumbling from the sky,” Darcy said. “The next one’s mine.”

Thor laughed.

Jane shook her head, so caught up in the notion to respond to Darcy’s irreverent humor. “I don’t even know,” she said. “I mean, it’s all speculation, but to think about moving beyond theory to application -- I just can’t even explain it.”

Thor smiled kindly, settling down next to Jane at the table. “You can,” he said. “And you will. I trust in your powerful intellect. The answers will come.”

Jane grinned. “I think you’re right,” she said, picking up her fork. “Something’s changing, I can feel it.”

Thor picked up his own fork and started to eat.

Whatever changes were coming, Thor had to think the most important ones had already occurred.

Not that he would dare tell Jane that. He would not risk her disappointment.

Nor her scientific wrath.

Change, after all, was relative to those who experienced it.

“Tell me more,” Thor said eagerly, for her sake more than his. “Have you finalized your equation?”

Jane’s eyes lit up at the question. She loved many things, but nothing made her as happy as her quest for answers. Thor did not seek such answers, but for Jane, he would always entertain more questions.

“As a matter of fact--” Jane started, putting her fork down again.

Darcy groaned. “Here we go again.”

Thor’s face broadened with a smile, his attention on Jane.

Here they went again.

And here Thor would gladly go, time and time again, until this mortal form failed him altogether.

-o-

When Thor was at work, he strove to be the best employee. He showed up early and worked late. He was the first to volunteer and always made himself available when a colleague needed assistance. He made many friends and shared many jokes, and found himself content.

When Thor was around town, he took pleasure in making conversation with as many people as possible. He learned their names and their interests. He assisted in the little things and made time for the bigger things as well. He could greet his cashiers by name, and he understood the nuances in the moods of those he passed on the street.

When Thor was at home, he set to making Jane’s life as easy as possible. While this still included performing basic household tasks, he also dedicated himself to learning some more of her trade. Jane had a brilliant mind, and she liked to discuss her theories. Thor’s goal was to be her willing companion in all things, not just the things that interested him.

He wondered what life would have been like if he had learned this earlier. He wondered if he would have seen the people of Asgard with more concern and if he would have understood the fragile alliance with the Frost Giants more clearly. He thought perhaps his father would have had less cause to discipline him, if his mother would have had more to be proud of, if Loki would have found more solace at his side.

When Thor was under the stars, he could no longer see the distant truths. A year was a lifetime to him now, and Thor could find nothing amongst them to bring him comfort.

Nor was there anything to cause him pain.

They were just stars, after all.

So he took Jane’s hand and ceased his thoughts all together.

-o-

It was approximately a month later when Coulson arrived. Thor was finishing up his workout one Saturday when he saw the man standing next to the vending machine. It was an odd choice, being so public. In his well-trimmed suit and sunglasses, Coulson made no attempt fit in.

Thor had never been one for retreat, and indeed, he had no means to do so here. Instead, he wiped his face with a towel, taking a swig of water from his water bottle.

“Agent Coulson,” he said.

The man tilted his head. “Donald.”

Thor did not flinch at the borrowed identity. “Have I done something to arouse your curiosity?”

“You’ve been a model citizen,” Coulson said. “You like the job? Construction work isn’t glamorous, but it seems like you’re good at it. Hammers, and all.”

Thor did not rise to the implication. “I seek to earn a wage for a necessary job,” he said. “I realize that it is not a highly respected station, but there is no higher calling than to serve a need for the greater good.”

“Sounds like you and I are not so different,” Coulson said.

“Somehow I doubt that you came here to pursue a friendship,” Thor commented.

Coulson took off his sunglasses, putting them in his pocket. “That’s not so far from the truth,” he said. “You and I have a lot in common. I see no reason why the two of us can’t build a partnership.”

Thor almost smiled. “A partnership wherein one is held in custody and charged with serious accusations?”

Coulson did smile in return. “I’m sure you can look past that,” he said. “If I’m willing to look past breaking and entering, attempted theft and identity fraud.”

There was no response to that Thor could make. Instead, he sighed. “Tell me what it is you seek.”

“All I’m offering is exactly what you’re looking for,” Coulson said. “Earning a wage for a necessary job.”

“With your S.H.I.E.L.D. Agency?” Thor presumed.

“Your friend Erik Selvig has found himself quite at home there,” Coulson replied.

“I trust Selvig to have his own reasons,” Thor said.

“And you?” Coulson prompted.

Thor shrugged. “You say you offer what I am looking for,” he said. “But I do not think you know what I seek.”

“There are things happening,” Coulson said.

“So I’ve been told,” Thor replied.

“Things that could change life on this planet,” he said. “If something is going to change, it is our job at S.H.I.E.L.D. to manage that change.”

“I fail to see my role in this,” Thor said. “You have many agents who can do your bidding, many who I am sure are strong--”

“If this was just a question of strength, maybe,” Coulson said.

“Well I have no superior intellect,” Thor countered.

“These changes, they started a year ago,” Coulson said. “About the time that you showed up and tried to steal the hammer. I don’t believe in myths. And I don’t believe in fairy tales. But I also don’t believe in coincidence.”

Thor sighed. “I will not fault you for asking questions and doing what you deem necessary to protect your people,” he said. “But believe me when I tell you, I do not have the answers you desire.”

“So you showing up a year ago,” Coulson said. “Your attempt to steal the hammer.”

“Mere chance for the first and utter folly for the second,” he said. “Tell me, aside from my transgression at your facility a year ago, have I done anything else to arouse your suspicions?”

A muscle twitched in Coulson’s jaw. “No,” he admitted after a long second.

Thor nodded his head, making his way to leave. “And I assure you, I never will.”

Coulson turned, looking after him. “We don’t have to be enemies, you know,” he said. “I think if you got to know me a little better, if you understood S.H.I.E.L.D.--”

Thor paused at the doorway. “Enemies are for times of war,” he said. “I only desire to live in peace here. I want to make a life, nothing more.”

Coulson nodded, getting his glasses back out and putting them on. “Good luck with that.”

“Thank you,” Thor said, smiling. “But I don’t think I will need it any longer.”

-o-

Though much of Thor’s life fell into a familiar pattern, there were still things to learn. True, his work was often repetitive. And yes, his routine was increasingly predictable. But his relationship with Jane Foster was an unending source of discovery.

He had learned some of courtship during his time on Earth. It was often depicted in television and movies, and Thor had observed the interactions of people around town. He found many such courtships to be especially volatile from time to time, and many were not as enduring as Thor had been used to on Asgard. On his birth planet, formal courtship was a conscious and prolonged decision that could last years or even decades. While dalliances were not discouraged, they were often made with no long term commitments in mind.

In that, relationships on Asgard had been fairly straightforward.

Thor found that was hardly the case on Earth. While marriage was still a formal commitment, it was not the culmination of every relationship. Some couples dated for weeks before getting married; others dating for years before even considering such a thing.

And even the term dating lacked proper description. Dating could mean any level of intimacy, from simple hand holding to the utmost intimacy. There were couples that practiced open relationships and others who insisted on the strictest levels of commitment.

Moreover, many people on Earth chose not to qualify their relationships with terminology at all. Boyfriends and girlfriends were subjective terms that often meant different things to different people.

Mostly, the more Thor learned about romantic entanglements, the less he understood.

Which made it all the harder when it came to Jane Foster.

After they kissed on the roof, Jane had been more openly affectionate. Uncertain, Thor had hesitated to reciprocate her advances for fear of misinterpreting her intentions. Yet she touched him more often, lightly on his arm or sliding an arm around his back.

And when they were alone beneath the stars, she often bid him farewell with a kiss.

After several weeks, she greeted him with one as well.

After a month, they would kiss after a half hour of discussion.

Within two months, their meetings on the roof were mostly used for this type of physical contact. Of course, they still talked and dreamed, but they kissed more frequently and more passionately until Thor found the question of restraint ever more disconcerting.

He did not know what was expected of him, and he did not know what he could expect of Jane. He had no idea if this was dating; if he was Jane’s boyfriend and if she was his girlfriend. He did not know if they had entered into some form of courtship or if this was something as simple as friends with benefits, as he had heard it called.

Basically, Thor had no idea how to explain his relationship with Jane Foster.

He just knew he didn’t want it to end.

-o-

It was not merely Jane whom he grew closer to. His acquaintances at work were quickly becoming more casual, and he often fielded invitations to join his friends for drinks or a meal out. Eventually, they invited him to join them while attending local sporting events or to watch an important game at one of their homes.

In this, he met their families and learned about their lives. He met Jose’s two young daughters, with pigtails and wide brown eyes as they danced an elegant ballet during commercial breaks. He learned about the local hunting options from Cody, who decorated his home with antlers and camouflage. Ricky had a collection of shot glasses from every state he had ever visited, and Tyler had spent an entire summer working as a road assistant for a punk rock band.

He found this fascinating, the ever growing diversity providing more insights into this world he now called home. On Asgard, people had been largely all the same, entrenched in centuries of tradition and routine that Thor had often found comforting.

He could see now how it might be limiting, especially to someone on the outside. Loki had chafed often against the expectations heaped upon him, and although their mother had insisted that his pursuits were noble, it had been impossible to see his scholarly ventures on an even field with wartime heroics.

And why not? 

On Asgard, people lived for centuries. After several decades of personal experimentation, most residents found a comfortable habit to live by and never wavered. It was safe in its predictability, and Thor had always flourished there.

But here, people did not live long enough to establish themselves thus. Culture evolved too quickly, spawning more options than any one person had the chance to keep up with. It was up to individuals to pick and choose, to find what mattered to them and stick with it.

With every friend he made, Thor understood this better. That Earth was not merely some lesser world, but that it was a place of infinite design. Some would liken its diversity to a toddler’s indecision, but Thor found himself enamored by it and the people.

They worked hard, not just at their jobs, but to define themselves. Nothing was taken for granted, not as it was on Asgard.

For the first time in his life, Thor was confronted with the reality that there was no right and wrong choice. There was no absolute will to rule him. The endless possibilities were all equal before him, and he would not be chastised for whatever path he chose. He could like baseball or football; he could enjoy darts or pool. He could prefer a steak over chicken, and he could enjoy wearing green instead of red.

In essence, Thor could be.

Whoever it was he wanted.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You do not understand,” Thor said. “Relationships _change._ The dynamic may shift. Love can burn with passion or settle into contentment. I do not know. But if I am her friend or if I am her lover or if I am something else entirely, it will not matter. I love Jane Foster, no matter how she wishes to define that. Even in this world, where things change with the beat of your heart, I have to believe some things can be constant.”

“I believe it is time for me to have my own place,” Thor announced one day at breakfast.

Darcy glanced at him over her coffee cup.

Jane swallowed her bit of toast quickly. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I believe it’s time for me to have my own place,” Thor said again with a resolute nod.

Jane stopped chewing to stare at him.

Darcy raised her eyebrows.

Thor’s boldness faltered. “Is that not acceptable?”

“Well, sure, it’s acceptable,” Jane said.

Thor bolstered himself, smiling. “Very good.”

“But, I mean, you’d need rent money,” Jane said, wiping the crumbs on her pants. “And a down payment. And there aren’t a lot of options in town. And there’s furniture--”

“I have money in the bank account you created for me,” Thor said with a steady nod. “That should not be a problem.”

Jane’s mouth opened. Then her brow furrowed. “But, I mean, you might not find anything close by.”

“I saw an advertisement for board at the cafe,” Thor said. “I believe it would not be so difficult.”

Jane’s expression turned vexed.

Thor could only conclude that he had breached some form of etiquette that he was not aware of. In some fashion, he had offended her. “Is there a problem?”

“No,” Jane said quickly and very unconvincingly. “I mean, you’re a grown man. You’re entitled to do whatever you want to do.”

“But you do not like the idea?” Thor presumed.

“I just, I mean,” Jane said, flustered now. She lifted a hand flitting it through her hair. “I don’t really understand--”

“She doesn’t understand why you’d want to go,” Darcy interjected. “She likes you living here.”

Jane shot Darcy a glare.

“Well, you could keep on fumbling it and then he’d move out because you can’t make yourself admit it,” Darcy said.

“Well, it’s his choice,” Jane hissed.

“And we’d all be miserable,” Darcy said. “I mean, come on. Thor, I get that you might want some space but you don’t pass up free rent. Trust me. And Jane, you need something to look at when you’re not stargazing and he’s the only thing that’s competed in three years--”

Jane flushed red. “Darcy--”

“And hey, I love your eggs,” Darcy said. “Plus, you clean toilets. I will do anything to keep a man around who cleans toilets.”

“It is not so hard,” Thor said. “The cleaning fluid is quite effective, and after we purchased the curved brushes--”

Darcy held up her hand. “My point exactly.”

Jane shook her head. “The point is, why do you want to leave?” she said, a little rougher than usual. “It just seems rather sudden.”

Thor nodded, for this was an understandable question. “Your hospitality has been unparalleled, and I am very comfortable here.”

“All of which are reasons to stay,” Darcy said.

“But I have visited many people,” Thor said. “And all of them have homes that reflect who they are. Their homes are not merely places where they rest or eat; they are places where they live. They have furniture to suit their comforts. They have decor that reflects where they have been. And besides, they have all been quite gracious to me, and I have no way to return their hospitality.”

Jane laughed, almost sounding relieved. “Oh, so that’s it.”

It was Thor’s turn to be vexed. “I am serious--”

“No, no, no,” Jane said disarmingly. “I know you are and that’s totally reasonable.”

“So I should start looking,” Thor concluded.

“I mean, if you really want to,” Jane said. “You have the money and the resources.”

Thor nodded. “Very well, then--”

“But,” Jane said, almost hesitating. “You don’t have to.”

“Your kindness has been great--” Thor started.

Jane shook her head. “We’ve told you from the start, this is your home as long as you want it,” she said. “So instead of putting your money on a deposit, go to the furniture store and buy some things you like. You can do anything you want in your room; you can do anything you want out here.”

“And please,” Darcy said. “Invite people over. Especially attractive single people, who may have an interest in clubbing.”

Thor looked at them carefully, ascertaining their level of comfort with this solution. They appeared not only willing to make this accommodation but eager for it.

“That is,” Jane said. “Unless you _want_ to go.”

Thor’s stomach clenched unexpectedly. “I only wish to create a place to call my own without infringing on your property.”

Jane’s face widened with a smile. “It’s _our_ property, Thor,” she said. “And trust me, you’re not infringing on anything.”

Thor grinned back, feeling a new rush of optimism buoy in his chest.

“Awesome!” Darcy said. “We’re so going shopping!”

-o-

Having spent over a year on Earth, Thor had been shopping many times. Indeed, he was an expert at the grocery store and the hardware store. He was decently well versed in the pharmacy section, though he still did not understand Darcy’s apparent glee that he would be willing to buy feminine personal items upon request.

He had spent time in bookstores and entertainment sections. He had looked at sporting goods and clothing. But in this seemingly vast shopping experience, he had spent little time in home goods. True, he had purchased the odd piece of cooking equipment from time to time -- for Jane’s selection was dreadful -- but there had never been much need to look at home decor.

Need, however, should not be confused with want.

It was true; his time on Earth had taught him to do without many things. The opulent comforts of Asgard were no longer things he expected, and he had not wasted time in pining. But, after reviewing his financial statements, he had decided that he had several hundred dollars he could spare, and he was committed to purchasing items for his own purposes.

They were frivolous, in a sense, but he could not say that conclusively. This was his chance to express himself. This was his chance to make his small quarters much more than that. This was his way to solidify his _home_.

“So,” Jane said. “You can think about lighting, bedding, wall hangings--”

“Oh!” Darcy said, picking up a strange looking device. “You totally need this!”

Thor tilted his head. “What is it?”

“It’s a lava lamp, and it’s amazing,” Darcy said.

“It’s useless,” Jane said, putting it back.

Darcy glowered. “This is Thor’s shopping trip.”

“Exactly,” Jane said. “So stop trying to get him to buy all the things that I’ve told you no to repeatedly.”

“But he could like it,” Darcy said. “Which, we should totally consider a popcorn maker.”

Jane huffed. “That’s -- actually not a terrible idea.”

Darcy crossed her arms smugly. “See.”

Jane rolled her eyes. “Go on, Thor,” she said. “This is your project. You’re in charge.”

Thor looked at the aisles hopefully. He adjusted his grip on the cart and then forged ahead.

-o-

On Earth, Thor had learned the subtle art of following. He had learned to take orders as well as suggestion, to consider the perspective of others as superior to his own. This had been a means of survival, as a stranger to this land, and it had also been a growing realization that he was not the unassailable warrior he once was. There was much he had to learn, of Earth but more than that. There was much he had to learn about being a good man and a gracious person.

This was good, Thor knew, and he had no regrets.

But he still had the inclination to lead. He liked to take charge, whether it was a weekend meal at home or a project at work.

Or, as the opportunity now presented itself, in the home goods section.

Thor shopped fearlessly, considering each item with due attention. He assessed the price in conjunction with the inherent appeal of each piece, and assembled a good collection of items to call his own.

At the checkout line, the girl at the register gave him a curious glance as she rang up his total. “Some redecorating?” she asked.

Thor beamed. “Indeed,” he said proudly.

She picked up an alarm clock with the visage of a man of iron. “Nice choices,” she said. “But I’m more of a Captain America girl myself.”

“Dude, Iron Man is way better,” Darcy said.

“Captain America represents ideals,” Jane argued.

“And have you seen that butt in spandex?” the girl asked.

“Indeed I have,” Thor said. “But that device not only tells the time and gives alerts, but it also serves as a light. It has diverse functionality.”

She bagged the item with a shrug, picking up the next with a frown. It was a piece of art with bold colors and strong shapes. “Huh,” she said, glancing at Thor again. “Your tastes certainly are...eclectic.”

“That’s one word for it,” Jane said with a smile.

Thor found he could only beam.

-o-

Eclectic, the clerk had called it.

Interesting, Jane had concluded.

Surreal, was Darcy’s comment.

Thor thought it was all true. He had been quick to pick up on the sports memorabilia, and Jane had mentioned that he had a preference for modern art. Thor was not sure what made it modern, but he liked the clean lines and geometric shapes for their bold clarity. He also had purchased a number of items with ornate golden finishes; include a classical-style mirror and gleaming sconces. The bright shag rug had been a question of sheer comfort, and the bedding had caught his eye for its silken texture.

True, it did not look like any other room he’d seen on Earth. It most certainly did not resemble the halls of his father’s palace. He had not put any forethought into the design, and he could see that some might call the collection disparate.

But as Thor looked around, he could only think of one thing: _home._

-o-

Thor spent the better part of the day in his room. While there technically wasn’t more to do in his room than before, he did find the ambiance to be quite soothing.

Besides, it was easier to play the latest games on his iPhone without Darcy peering over his shoulder.

Even so, he was not so naive to think that this room was really what home was all about.

No, just as his father’s palace had not been the heart of Asgard.

It was the people.

After texting Darcy and several other friends back and forth for a while, Thor put away his phone and stared restlessly at the ceiling. He watched the new glow from his sconces, staring absently at his new belongings. He was uncertain how long he had lain there, when there was a knock on the door.

He sat up, just in time to see Jane.

“Jane!” he said.

She smiled. “Hey. Still enjoying your new place?”

Thor nodded. “It is very comfortable.”

Glancing around again, she nodded back. “I’m really glad you like it.”

“I am very glad you helped me make it possible,” he said.

She laughed. “It was your money, Thor. It’s not like you needed my permission.”

“But this is still your property,” Thor said. “And you have often given me courage when I am uncertain how to proceed.”

“You know you could have gotten your own place, right?” she said, sounding a little hesitant.

“I suppose--”

“I mean, I never meant to force you into anything,” she said, her words rushed now.

“Jane,” he said, sitting up a little straighter. “I meant it when I said I wanted to be here.”

She let out a breath. “I just...I don’t want to hold you back.”

Now he got to his feet. “You have done nothing but support me--”

“That’s my point,” she said. “I don’t think you realize what you could have. I mean, you live in this small town, working this small job, living this small life -- and look at you. You’re….you could do anything, Thor. I need you to know that.”

He stepped closer. “Jane Foster, I have done everything,” he said. “Both good and bad, I have lived a life with more adventure than you could imagine. And I did not come here by choice, but I find that I cannot regret finding this town and this home. I cannot regret finding you.”

She drew her lips together, swallowing.

“I don’t want anything,” he said. “I want what is here, in front of me. Never doubt that.”

She smiled again, cheeks flushing. “Okay, then,” she said.

He reached up, cupping her cheek. “Okay, then.”

Dipping her head, she averted her gaze with a nervous giggle. “So, um,” she said. “Do you want to go to the roof?”

Thor nodded resolutely. “Yes, please.”

-o-

Thor had learned something of restraint since being on Earth.

Still, when Jane half forced him to the lawn chair on the roof, he was not about to complain. She kissed him first, but he kissed her harder, gathering her up with as much passion as he could temper.

She was an amazing woman, Jane Foster. So smart and so talented. And so beautiful.

Her fingers found their way under his shirt, running her hands up his stomach.

It was almost too much.

Inhaling sharply, he pulled back, sitting himself up and looking at Jane.

Still on the chair, she looked up at him, a bit bewildered. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” he said. “At least, I don’t think so.”

A little breathless, she sat up. “You don’t think so?”

He sighed. “I feel...very passionate about you.”

Jane laughed.

“I do not fully understand the nature of our relationship,” he admitted.

“Ah,” she said, smoothing a strand of hair behind her ear. “So you want to have the talk?”

He glanced at her. “The talk? I thought parents had the talk with their children in your culture--”

She chuckled. “No, the define-the-relationship conversation,” she said. “It’s where two people sit down and talk about where they’re at together.”

“Yes,” Thor said hopefully. “That would be most helpful.”

Jane sighed, not looking nearly as enthusiastic.”

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“I just..,” she started. Then she shrugged. “I’ve never been very good at relationships. So I guess it was easier when this wasn’t anything. If it was just this thing no one knew about, then I couldn’t mess it up.”

“Well, I behaved so abominably that I was cut off from all my relationships,” Thor pointed out. “I have no better experience.”

She looked at him. “The last guy I was with was a total disaster,” she said.

“Donald Blake?” Thor asked.

“Yeah,” Jane said. “I mean, he seemed like he should be great. A smart, talented doctor. Good looking and likeable.”

“And?”

“And, it died,” she said. “We moved in together and nothing worked. I was so relieved when he finally left, that I basically swore I’d never let myself get distracted like that again.”

Thor’s shoulders fell self-consciously.

“But then, you came along, literally out of the sky,” she said. “And at first, I mean, it was all science. But it’s more than that now, isn’t it? And I just don’t want to screw it up. Not with someone who _I love._ ”

Thor’s eyes widened.

Jane made a face. “Oh, man. That was not how I was going to admit that,” she said. “I was going to tell you, flat out and honest. I was going to say it.”

Thor nodded, trying not to sound eager. “You may say it still.”

She drew a breath and let it out. Then she shrugged helplessly. “I love you, Thor. I really do.”

Thor’s chest tightened. His stomach flipped. He found himself smiling.

“Well,” she said, expectant. “You’re just going to sit there? You don’t love me back? I mean, I can’t believe I say these stupid things, and you sit there and smile like I’m some sort of crazy person--”

“Jane,” he said, gentle but firm.

She stopped, looking at him balefully.

“I have chosen to stay here for many reasons,” he said. “In truth, I do not know where else I’d go. I enjoy this town and these people. I like my job and my friends. But I stay mostly for you.”

Her expression flickered, jaw tightening.

“I stay not because you are beautiful and smart, though you are both of these things,” he said. “I stay because you have shown me what it is to be human. You have shown me what it is to be good. I stay because there is no one else on this planet that I hold as dear as you.”

Jane swallowed, blinking tremulously.

“I love you,” he pledged. “And there is no other person under these stars that I can imagine spending my days with.”

She blushes, averting her gaze with a silly smile. “Okay, so that was a pretty good comeback,” she admitted.

“I do not expect you to take my word for it, though,” Thor said. “Let my actions speak for me.”

He leaned down, kissing her.

She kissed him back. Grinning, she pulled away. “So does that answer all your questions?”

Thor grinned back. “I am not sure,” he said, leaning closer again. “Let me ask again.”

Their lips met, and she shook her head. “I think maybe we need to talk a little more,” she joked.

To that, Thor had absolutely no objections.

-o-

Life was good.

It was hard to believe sometimes, that he could find so much joy in an exile so harsh and so sudden. But time had mellowed those wounds, and Jane’s companionship certainly was an apt distraction. It was true, he still did not know what the future held, but as long as Jane was in the picture, he thought he could manage it just fine.

Suddenly his greatest trials were how to contain his pleasure. He went to work with a smile and clocked out eagerly. He ate and drank and made merry. His heart heightened its pace at the thought of Jane, and seeing her made him hinge with anticipation.

In public, Thor still made efforts to respect Jane’s privacy. She did not seem overly eager to share the news of their relationship with those around them, and though Thor did not totally understand, he would show restraint on her behalf. It was not so hard, since Thor had always been prone to gallantry. But back at the lab, he found it increasingly difficult to act as though nothing was different.

He wanted to touch her, to kiss her. He wanted to confess his adoration every moment of every day.

Instead, he sat across from her at breakfast and smiled.

A lot.

Jane laughed.

Thor kept smiling, unable to take his eyes off of her. She was beautiful; she was spectacular. She was the queen of his life, and he could imagine no sight in all the realms as awe-inspiring.

Jane blushed and laughed some more.

Darcy looked between them. “Okay, seriously,” she said. “You two are acting super weird.”

“What?” Jane said, rather too quickly. “We are acting totally normal.”

“There is nothing unusual about smiling,” Thor agreed.

Darcy rolled her eyes. “You guys must think I’m stupid.”

Jane shrugged.

Darcy sighed. “Not about science,” she said. “About _this_.”

“Breakfast?” Thor asked, hopefully obtuse.

“You two,” Darcy said. “I mean, you’ve always been a little goofy around each other but ever since the party--”

She stopped, eyes widened.

“Wait,” Darcy said. “Did you two--”

“No,” Jane said, quickly once again.

Thor’s brow furrowed.

Darcy raised her eyebrows.

“I mean, not that,” Jane amended. She sighed, flustered. “I mean, we kissed. A lot. And, I don’t know, we may be together now.”

Darcy glanced between them again. “So you two haven’t--?”

Jane shook her head.

Darcy narrowed her eyes. “But you two are--”

Thor nodded.

“Look, I know it might be weird,” Jane started in again. “But I swear, nothing will change, and it won’t be hard--”

Darcy just rolled her eyes. “Please,” she said dismissively. “I’m just amazed it took you guys so long.”

Jane stopped, mouth open.

Thor considered this.

“It’s almost the definition of star-crossed, considering that you met while looking at the stars,” Darcy said, flitting her hand through the air. “And the unresolved sexual tension has been going on for _months_. I had to go get laid just to keep this place from imploding.”

Jane gaped.

“I do not understand what you are referring to,” Thor said.

Darcy nodded, patting Thor’s hand as if in commiseration. “You will, buddy,” she consoled. “You will.”

Jane drew a breath. “Anyway,” she said, a little too loudly. “Now you know.”

Darcy smirked. “I think I knew before either of you two.”

Thor clapped his hands. “This is good!” he declared, even though he was fairly certain that parts of this conversation had made very little sense to him. “Now we may display affection while in your presence, correct?”

“Go for it,” Darcy said.

Thor brightened.

Jane shook her head. “No,” she said. “I just. No.”

Darcy clucked her tongue, going back to her food. “It’s a good thing you guys are so attractive together,” she said shaking her head. “Or you two would be a total mess.”

-o-

If Darcy took the news somewhat in jest, the rest of the town seemed to embrace the change much more graciously. When Thor started holding Jane’s hand, people said how cute they were. When Thor ran errands for Jane, they commented how lucky Jane was. When Jane let him order two meals instead of one, Thor was told to remember what an amazing woman he had.

They all saw it, it seemed, well before they did. It was perhaps unsurprising that Thor would be the last one to realize. Thor was a slow learner, after all.

But the lessons he learned, he learned well.

He squeezed Jane’s hand in his, smiling at her fondly.

He learned _very_ well.

-o-

Thor did not delay in inviting his friends over. He organized a group to watch an upcoming baseball game, and took great pains to have everything in order. He cleaned the house until it was immaculate, and he prepared a great assortment of food.

“Wow,” Jane commented when she saw his spread.

“Seriously,” Darcy said. “How many people are you having over anyway?”

Thor frowned. “Is it too much?”

“No,” Jane said. “I mean, it’s just….”

“A lot,” Darcy said.

Thor did not feel reassured by this.

Jane smiled at him as reassuringly as possible. “It’s fine.”

“I do not want to be overbearing,” Thor said.

“It’s a little over the top and indulgent,” Jane said. “But that’s you. You like to go big. Anything less wouldn’t be right for you.”

Darcy nodded. “And hey, we’ll be able to eat leftovers all week.”

They were being nice, but Thor could not shake his doubt now. “I only want to do this right.”

“Thor,” Jane said. “It’s a group of guys over to watch a game. It’s called friendship. It’s sort of hard to do it wrong.”

“You would be surprised,” Thor lamented.

“With you?” Jane asked skeptically. “I doubt it.”

-o-

His friends were surprised by the amount of attention he had put into setting up a comfortable environment for their viewing pleasure.

Even so, not one of them complained.

Indeed, they ate heartily and drank merrily. They cheered raucously and told many tales. Jane joined them, laughing as she heard about their work environment, and Darcy found herself quite cozy with Greg, one of the younger members of the party. When the game was done, his friends stayed to talk and play games, and Thor was glad he had had the presence of mind to buy enough meat to grill.

It reminded him in snatches of the celebrations on Asgard. The long, drawn out spectacles where food was in abundance and good favor was aplenty. Thor had always thought those feasts were to commemorate great feats, but he wondered now if they had been designed to recognize the people. Not just what they could accomplish, but who they were.

That was what made the feasts memorable, after all. His mother could hire the best chefs and arranged for the best entertainment, but the food and the music and all the like had paled in comparison to the bond he shared with his fellow warriors. Even now, Thor could hear Volstagg’s laugh and see Fandral’s sly wink. He could still remember Hogun raising his glass in toast as Sif held her chin high with pride as she retold their feats once more.

Those were the moments he still missed, the lingering things he thought about when he remembered Asgard.

There were no feats of greatness, and miniature hot dogs in dinner rolls were hardly an opulent feast, but Thor felt it was close enough.

As he raised his glass with his friends, he wondered if friendship had always been the greatest feat of all.

-o-

After they had all eaten their fill, the party went on into the evening. When his friends finally departed, they thanked him most gratefully.

“Best party ever.”

“We should do it at Thor’s place every week.”

Some offered to help pay, but Thor declined.

The expense had used up most of his spending money for the month, but as he shook the hands of those he counted as friends, he thought the cost to be worthwhile.

-o-

Thor’s confidence soared. His sense of contentment was at an all-time high.

That was, until, he came home from work to find Erik Selvig in the lab.

“Thor!” Jane said. “Look who came home to visit!”

Selvig looked at him. He was not smiling. “Jane was just telling me the latest news.”

Thor swallowed hard.

“It seems things have been changing since I was gone,” Selvig continued.

Thor faltered. He had done nothing wrong, and he knew that, and yet somehow when faced with Erik Selvig’s critical eye, he felt himself waver. It wasn’t as if Thor was impervious to mistakes, after all.

Or disappointing those who had entrusted him with the most important things.

Erik Selvig did not cut nearly as imposing a figure as Odin, but somehow the terse gaze was one he had mastered with all the alacrity of an ageless king standing watch over an eternal realm.

Thor had made every effort to live up to his promise to Selvig.

He could not be sure, however, that falling in love with her was part of Selvig’s directive.

“I’m dying to show you the latest numbers,” Jane said.

Selvig looked at her. “You know, tomorrow,” he said. “All I’ve done for months is stare at numbers. I need a break.” He looked at Thor. “And a drink.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jane said. “You two should totally go out for a little bit. When you get back, we’ll catch up on everything else.”

Thor said nothing as Jane leaned up, pecking him on the cheek.

“Have fun!” she said.

Thor looked at Selvig.

Selvig’s gaze intensified.

Fun, Thor thought, probably wasn’t the word.

-o-

At the bar, Thor ordered two beers. There was an awkward silence as the bartender complied, and Thor took a ready drink.

“How is work?” he asked, in an effort to be polite. In his time on Earth, he had become quite proficient at the art of small talk.

Selvig sloshed his drink contemplatively. “Busy,” he said after a long moment. He cast Thor a look. “Sounds like things have been busy around here.”

Thor took a breath. His apprehension was not without reason, but there was nothing dishonorable in his conduct. If he had faced countless foes all throughout the galaxy, then surely he could engage in a form of mortal courtship without trepidation. “I assume you have talked to Jane.”

“She tells me you two are an item,” Selvig said.

“Yes,” Thor replied, finding strength in the simple admittance of that fact. “We have been dating for several months.”

Selvig nodded, finally taking a drink. He swallowed hard. “You know, when I asked you to look after Jane, that isn’t exactly what I meant.”

“I assure you,” Thor said. “My commitment to Jane’s well-being has not been altered. If anything, our current state has made me even more aware of her needs and desires.”

With another drink, Selvig shook his head. “Romance is hard,” he said. “Things we say will last forever rarely do.”

“Forever is a long time,” Thor told him. “And yet not nearly as long as you think it is.”

“I’m not being poetic, Thor,” Selvig said. “I’m being realistic. Relationships on Earth, they blossom and they burn -- and then they fail. Romance is the quickest way to screw up a friendship, let me tell you.”

Thor took a drink of his own, considering this. He supposed it made sense, given the transient nature of this realm. To attain affection so quickly was intoxicating, but he could see the folly of such entanglements. Courtships on Asgard, though much slower, often had long term results. Of his friends and acquaintances on Earth, many referred to ex-girlfriends or former husbands. Broken relationships, it seemed, were a common human experience.

While Thor could understand this in theory, he had to admit, the application was hard to grasp. In the realm eternal, things were static. While this was inhibiting in some sense, it also offered its own kind of comfort. Though Thor had come to understand how fleeting many pleasures were on Earth, he could not see the people as expendable. Indeed, Darcy and Jane and even Selvig -- they were a part of him. If Jane did not wish to pursue a romantic relationship, Thor could respect that. What he could not do, however, was live without her.

“Relationships change,” Thor said finally. “When I first arrived here, I admit that I had not considered Jane in any deep sense whatsoever. It was only through her continued dedication that I discovered her to be a person of supreme worth. In that, I developed a respect for Jane, far deeper than what I might have thought possible.”

“That’s fine for now, but when things go on--”

Thor shook his head. “You do not understand,” Thor said. “Relationships _change._ The dynamic may shift. Love can burn with passion or settle into contentment. I do not know. But if I am her friend or if I am her lover or if I am something else entirely, it will not matter. I love Jane Foster, no matter how she wishes to define that. Even in this world, where things change with the beat of your heart, I have to believe some things can be constant.”

“Not many things,” Selvig said into his glass.

“Do you hold out so little hope?” Thor asked.

Selvig looked at him, a half smile on his face. “I’ve lived a long time,” he said. “I’m not alone by choice.”

“And yet, your commitment to Jane, that remains, does it not?” Thor asked.

“Because Jane is like my daughter,” he said. “Family is different.”

“Is it?” Thor asked. “I will stay with Jane, no matter how she may want me.”

Selvig sighed, taking a drink. “I just think you need to understand, is all,” he said. “It’s complicated.”

Thor shrugged. “I think it’s actually rather simple,” he said.

Sullenly, Selvig took another swig. “I just don’t want her to get hurt,” he said.

“You have no reason to be concerned about my intentions,” Thor assured him.

“And what about you?”

Thor cocked his head.

“I’ll admit, your commitment is unusual,” Selvig said. “Are you really certain that you could handle it if her feelings do change?”

“So you doubt Jane?”

“No,” Selvig said. “She’s human. We’re all _human_. Sometimes I worry you don’t completely know what that means yet.”

It was something he hadn’t considered: the idea of loss in a realm so fleeting. On Asgard, he had gained much and lost it all in the most painful fashion imaginable. He was never given the chance to say goodbye. He had never made amends. There had been no closure, just a violent shift in his world that left him irreparably changed.

_That_ was loss. That was wrenching, devastating loss. That was a void inside of him that he might never truly understand. That was the gruesome reality of having eternity ripped from your soul and being left with snatches of time that would never amount to anything.

During his time on Earth, he had been so fixed on recovering from hiss loss that he had scarcely considered another trauma. He had not fathomed that anything else could hurt that bad.

But if he lost Jane Foster. If he were forced to leave Puente Antiguo. If this life that he had built for himself was taken from him.

In this, Selvig did have some wisdom. Perhaps restraint was not wrong. By the gods, Thor knew he had needed more of that his entire life.

And yet, what was life if not for living? He had learned much in his exile, but the reality of holding on to what mattered most was foremost in his mind. What he had on Earth was not glory or power. It was not conquest or honor.

It was a job of integrity. It was a community to call his own. It was friends who knew his name.

It was a woman he loved.

If there was risk involved, he would endure it.

He had to endure it.

Or else, what would the purpose of living be at all?

He took a drink, savoring the liquid for a moment. Then he nodded. “Would you say Jane is not worth that risk?”

Selvig looked at him. Then he laughed. “That’s a damn good answer.”

Thor brightened hopefully. “So you approve of our relationship?”

“Thor, it’s not my place to say anyway,” he said. “It’s Jane’s choice, and she’s clearly made it already. And besides, I don’t like the idea of _anyone_ with Jane, but you’re a good man.”

“Your confidence is quite important to me,” Thor said. “Although I do have to question that last part.”

“A good man?” Selvig asked.

“Or at least, a good boyfriend,” he said. “I do find sometimes that the nuances of such relationships are harder to navigate. I have learned of various expectations of men in my position, and I find it difficult to know which things are true and which are not.”

At that, Selvig rolled his eyes. “Everyone thinks they have the answer,” he said. “And most of them are divorced.”

“So you do not think I should listen?” Thor asked.

“Listen, sure,” he said. “But you have to find what works for you and Jane.”

“But I wish to be more than adequate for her,” Thor said. “She deserves much more than I feel I know how to give.”

“Look, Thor,” Selvig said. “Consent doesn’t mean I want to know.”

“I merely thought--”

Selvig waved a hand through the air, making a face. “Just put her first,” he said. “If you’re going to listen to anyone, listen to her. The rest will fall into place one way or another.”

“Is it that simple?”

Selvig chuckled, clapping Thor on the shoulder. “If you think that sounds simple, then I think we need another round.”

-o-

With the revelation regarding his relationship to Jane out of the way, it occurred to Thor that Selvig had other reasons for visiting. In fact, when they finished their drinks, Selvig seemed somewhat reluctant to return back to the lab. When Thor asked if there was something wrong, Selvig forced a smile and said it was nothing.

Nothing, as it seemed to Thor, was the universal term for _everything_.

-o-

There was a time when Thor would have thought it was not his place to ask. Selvig was his friend, however, which meant it was exactly Thor’s place. He had plans to take Selvig aside later in the evening to have such a discussion.

His plan, as it turned out, was entirely unnecessary.

“I think you need to go,” Selvig announced at dinner.

At first, Thor thought Selvig was talking to him. He stopped mid bite, stiffening painfully. But then he realized Selvig was not looking at him.

He was looking at Jane.

Jane scoffed, putting her glass down. “Um. Okay.”

“I’m serious,” Selvig said.

Jane stared at him, blank for a moment. Then she shook her head, trying to laugh as if it were still a joke. “You’re...I mean….” She stopped and shook her head again. “Erik, what are you talking about?”

In some ways, it was a relief to not be the center of a debate between them. But the look on Jane’s face did not make him feel any better.

Nor did the look on Selvig’s.

Darcy, to be fair, looked just as uncomfortable as he felt.

“Things are happening,” Selvig said, leaning forward. “Things I’m not sure any of us are ready for.”

“Well, yeah,” Jane said. “I’ve been tracking the science--”

“This isn’t just science,” Selvig said. “Science is all theory and possibilities, but I’m talking about actual threats.”

“Of course there are risks,” Jane said. “We’re talking about portals to other worlds, so--”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Selvig said, more forcefully this time. “It’s not just risks; it’s _threats_.”

Jane made a face. “What have they been telling you?”

“They don’t tell us much of anything,” Selvig said. “But it doesn’t take much to put it together. Look around, Jane. Outside your equations, into the world. All the things that have happened while you’ve been looking through equipment screens. People trying to take over the world. Heroes rising to miraculously save us all. You don’t think it’s all just a coincidence, do you?”

“So, what, we’re basing this on conspiracy theories?” Jane asked.

Selvig took a ragged breath, letting it out. “They’re pushing us,” he said. “We work nonstop, round the clock. S.H.I.E.L.D. may not have equations like you do, but it has something. They know something’s out there.”

“Of course something’s out there--”

“Something bad, Jane,” Selvig said, lowering his voice now. “They’re ramping up defenses. They’re reallocating all resources. There’s an entire defense _unit_ being built up out in the desert.”

Jane’s eyes were wide, her mouth open. There was a taut silence, and Thor looked between them with growing unease. It was not just the tension between two people he cared so much about it. It was Selvig’s implications.

Because though Jane clearly thought Selvig to be overly dramatic, Thor could not deny that the man was probably right. Over the last year and a half, Thor had often thought of life beyond Earth. He had looked to the stars in question, wondering how the realms fared. He had entertained the possibility of war more than once, thinking of his friends and family fighting a conflict that Thor had started.

It was possible that war with Jotunheim had not resolved quickly. Moreover, he could not deny the possibility -- or even the likelihood -- that the conflict would soon expand to include other realms. The balance of peace was one Thor had grown up taking for granted. With his brashness he had shattered the peace, and it could be splintering through the nine realms and beyond.

In this, it was only a matter of time before Earth was involved. Before someone thought to conquer Midgard or sought refuge on its unimportant lands.

Thor had known this, had thought about it often in the beginning. But time had made him forget; it had made him think it was not his cause anymore. He had felt so small and distant that perhaps he had foolishly assumed that the consequences of his actions would have no impact on him here.

Perhaps it had been denial, a desperate hope that he could take solace in the idea that his punishment could get no worse.

Maybe Thor had not changed so much after all. Maybe he was still the same; selfish child he had always been. Maybe for his pained hope, he had left his friends in the gravest danger there was.

Selvig sighed, the anger fading. In its wake, the other man simply looked old. He did not like to bring this news, nor did he like enforcing it. But Selvig had the tenacity to do the right thing, even when it did not make him popular. Even when it was not easy.

Even when it was so very, very hard.

Jane finally let out a breath, shrugging her shoulders. “So, what? I should just...stop?”

Selvig’s shoulders fell. “I know what I’m asking here, Jane,” he said. “But you have to understand. Whoever opens a portal first, whether it’s you or S.H.I.E.L.D. or something from another planet, is going to be in the gravest danger possible. I can’t stand to think about you in that kind of position. You’re brilliant, Jane, but I’m working around people in full gear. You need to be protected--”

“You said the same thing with Thor,” Jane objected.

“Next time, it won’t be Thor,” Selvig returned ardently. He turned his gaze to Thor. “Will it?”

The blood drained from Thor’s face, and he felt conspicuous now that the conversation suddenly shifted toward him.

Selvig knew, and Darcy still looked confused. Jane, however -- Jane’s gaze always had the power to make him wither.

He would do anything for her, and there was no one’s opinion he valued more. He prized her intellect; he considered her compassion to be boundless. In Thor’s universe, she was as much the sun as anything else he had ever known.

Which made his honesty as important as it would be difficult.

“He’s right,” Thor said, voice quiet.

Jane scoffed again. “You have got to be kidding me--”

Thor shook his head. “The dangers out there are far beyond what you have allowed yourself to imagine,” he said.

“Thor, we spend all our time together looking at the stars,” she protested. “You know what it means to me.”

“Your sense of wonder defines you,” Thor agreed. “And it makes your intellect even more powerful. But you see possibilities, when in fact there is also real danger. I have told you of the things I left. I cannot say for sure what has happened since I arrived here, but I can only assume things are not going well.”

Jane made a face. “How can you possibly assume that?”

Thor pressed his lips together.

Jane paused, tilting her head. “The activity,” she realized. “You think it means Selvig’s right. Something _is_ coming.”

“Or, at the very least, things are happening at an increased rate,” Thor said. “The universe beyond this realm is vast but most realms are not nearly as fluid. To see this kind of activity--”

“The spiking indicates that things are changing,” Jane finished for him. “And probably not for the better. And I mean, if we’re talking about a bridge between worlds, this kind of uptick would be a result of increased traffic. Which, I guess could be trade, but if there are established relationships, that much increase is probably unlikely. So we’re looking at a mass exodus, which would only happen in case of emergency or trauma. Of it could be relocation or conflict or--”

“War,” Selvig concluded for her. “It could be war.”

“Whoa,” Darcy said, speaking for the first time. Although the younger woman was prone to mindless chatter, she was never, in fact, mindless. She, too, sensed the gravity of this situation. “When did we move from the theoretical to the actual?”

“Well, it’s always been about both,” Jane said. “But we’d just had more theory than actual to deal with.”

“But I’m an intern,” she objected. “And now you tell me we’re studying war?”

“We’re not studying war,” Jane said with exasperation. “We may just...stumble into it.”

“Which is why you need to go,” Selvig reiterated, emboldened by her concessions.

This time, Jane was at a loss. Her objections were still plain, but her respect for Selvig and the fact that his argument had merit was giving her pause. Jane Foster was nearly impervious in the face of opposition. She had rebuilt everything and excelled after S.H.I.E.L.D. had tried to dismantle her work. Jane knew no bounds.

But this was Selvig, as much a father to her as Thor could tell.

In many ways, Thor wanted her to concede this point. As much as he cared for Jane, he wanted to keep her safe, and the idea of something else falling from the sky and putting her in harm’s way was more than he could take.

But he would never ask her to stop.

Especially when he knew it would be pointless.

“It wouldn’t matter where she went,” Thor said.

They all looked at him again in surprise.

“The universe is not as vast as you might think,” Thor said. “If danger does come to this planet, there would be no place safe. Not for Jane; not for any of us.”

Thor’s words settled over them. It was Darcy who grunted. “Well this conversation just went from hostile to depressing.”

“So what, then?” Selvig asked. “We do nothing?”

“Or we do something,” Jane said. “If we can figure it out--”

Thor shook his head. “There is nothing to be done,” he said. “It is why I have not mentioned this before. We do not know what awaits us. We do not know what comes for us. All we know is the here and now, doing the best we can with what we have.”

“And if that makes us vulnerable?” Selvig asked.

“Then at least the acknowledgement gives us strength,” Thor said. “I know you all; each of you. Whatever comes, there is no one more ready to face these challenges.”

Selvig sat back, slumping in his seat.

Jane furrowed her brow.

Darcy clapped. “Two people with advanced degrees, and the dude working construction wins the point,” she said. “I’d be more congratulatory except all the parts where you talk like we’re going to die soon.”

“Our lifespans are miniscule,” Thor said. “We’re all going to die soon either way.”

Darcy laughed; and then Jane laughed. Finally, even Selvig laughed.

Thor couldn’t help but find himself smiling. “It wasn’t a joke,” he admitted.

“Yeah,” Darcy said. “That’s probably why it was funny.”

“I still think it’s risky,” Selvig countered.

“I still don’t know what else I’d do,” Jane said.

“Whatever we face, we must do so together,” Thor said resolutely. “Promise me that much.”

“Of course,” Jane said. “I mean, not that I’m going to tell S.H.I.E.L.D. anything, but I am listening. Erik, I swear. I take you seriously.”

Selvig pursed his lips. “I never actually expected you to listen to this,” he said. “But I figured it would be worth a try.”

Jane smiled, almost apologetic. “I appreciate that.”

“Aw, that’s so cute,” Darcy said. “But really. After this, I think we need something more than wine. I’m totally getting the vodka.”

Jane laughed. “Well, maybe this once--”

“Definitely this once,” Selvig said.

Darcy retrieved the alcohol, and poured them all even shares.

“To science,” Jane said.

“May it save us in the end,” Selvig agreed.

With that, they drank, and Thor quietly accepted another round as the mood eased. Darcy turned the conversation to lighter topics, which Jane readily joined. Even Selvig seemed relieved to think of something different.

Of the simple things. Of the passions that started this. Of the good, the hopeful, the human.

These were the conversations Thor had always enjoyed most in his time with Jane. And though he talked of the sports teams with Selvig and shared tales of Darcy’s antics in the lab, he could not shake the feeling, the nagging dread. The sense that even though he had been cast out, he would never be beyond reach. That no matter what he did to move on, the world might not move fast enough.

They drank heartily, until each was tipsy. Selvig fell asleep on the couch, and Jane talked with wide hand motions about her latest theory regarding quantum physics. Darcy giggled until she passed out, and Thor merely finished the bottle.

He did not have the heart to admit that before this was over, they might need a lot more than alcohol.

-o-

They drank heavy that night, but even when his friends had all succumbed to sleep, Thor found himself restless. Taking another beer, he went to the roof and looked out.

He studied the stars, wishing he could know more about them. If only he still had some knowledge, something he could offer his friends. He wanted to protect them, offer some kind of safeguard, but so far removed and without his powers, he had no insights.

In this, he was useless; impotent and powerless.

Sighing, he studied them in vain desperation. It was hard to imagine, how Jane could look up and see such awesome wonder. And Selvig, well, he saw danger.

Thor, though.

Thor saw _nothing_.

And that was the bitterest truth of all.

-o-

In the morning, Thor had barely slept. He was tired and achy, the weight of the alcohol settled deep in his stomach. He did not quite feel ill, but he scarcely felt like himself.

Even so, he was better than the rest of his company.

In that, he felt some responsibility. For all his friends had offered him, he could only return the favor as he was able.

With everyone still sleeping, he made an ample breakfast and brewed a pot of coffee. When they roused, they ate wearily.

“I don’t know why I ever drink that much,” Jane groaned.

Selvig popped an antacid. “I do.”

“Come now,” Thor cajoled with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. “The morning is not so bad.”

Selvig grunted, and Jane took another drink of coffee.

Darcy looked at him with a wrinkled nose. “Did we discuss possible worldwide destruction last night?” she asked.

Thor’s jawed clenched. It was easier to forget such things in the light of day, though he supposed it was a flight of fancy to imagine it all so easily put aside.

“Huh,” Darcy said, when no one disregarded her. “I had been hoping that was part of my drunken stupor.”

Selvig grimaced, and Jane sunk down miserably. Despite their resolve to keep on, it was clear that it was not so easy to put the doubts aside. Thor understood. He had stood beneath the stars and searched for a purpose himself. They all would strive for their purpose, to discover and define.

And Thor would strive for his.

He had no great intellect or power, but he could do this much: he could believe when they could not. He could reassure when they doubted. Even if the stars held nothing for him, he could help them reach for the heavens when they faltered.

That was his calling.

And slight as it seemed, it was everything on a morning as sober as this.

“We should look on the bright side,” Thor said, making his best effort to sound upbeat.

“I wasn’t aware there was a bright side to worldwide destruction,” Darcy said.

“If such a thing is daunting it is only because we have much to lose,” Thor said. “And that, I think, is a very good reason to stay strong. To stay optimistic. It is only in the face of our greatest challenges that we discover the things that matter most.”

It was all he had to offer. In the heat of battle, he had been good at rousing speeches. He had been able to talk his friends and his men into many antics they would have been better to avoid. Thor could lead anyone into battle.

Today, however, he had needs to lead his friends to something far simpler and yet far harder.

To live.

In the face of the unknown, to simply live.

Such a feat was one Thor had learned the hard way -- the hardest way. But such a truth was the only hope in his exile.

The only hope he had at all.

“So we should face the unknown,” Thor said. “We should not forfeit that which matters to us. We must work. We must continue to laugh and eat and make the most of our lives. No matter what end awaits us, the victory is in how we live each day in the face of that.”

Jane was holding her cup, looking at him. Selvig looked pained while he listened. Darcy wrinkled her nose again. “Yeah, it’s too early for inspirational speeches.”

“Oh,” Thor said. “Should I try again after lunch?”

“Try again when I’m not dead,” Darcy moaned.

“And when I don’t want to throw up,” Jane added.

“And generally when the room stops spinning,” Selvig said.

Thor chuckled. “I suppose that is fair,” he said. “Does anyone want more coffee?”

All three groaned their affirmation.

-o-

For all that humans were small, short lived and mostly powerless, they were surprisingly resilient. By the time the afternoon came around, Darcy had excused herself to visit other friends. After half-heartedly watching some TV, Jane had found herself back in her lab. Selvig, for all his protestations, was not far behind her.

Thor turned a sporting event on the television, watching it with the volume on low. He could still hear the exchange of ideas between Jane and Selvig, discussing variables and decimal points with growing enthusiasm.

He had to smile. It appeared no rousing speech was necessary after all. Jane could not stop her mind, and Selvig, for all his grousing, was almost as bad. They had an innate desire to learn. To _live_.

No matter how long or short the future may be.

100 years or 10 years or 10 weeks, Thor supposed it did not make much difference. It did not matter how long they had left. It only mattered how well they lived.

-o-

That night, it was Thor who went to bed early. Jane offered to watch a movie with him, but Thor knew her mind was set on other things. Though Thor and Darcy were helpful as they could be, it was rare for Jane to have another scientific mind to exchange ideas with. Though Jane might try to be polite, Thor kissed her gently and excused himself.

In his room, he could still hear them. Voices quiet at first, but slowly building energy. He could hear Jane’s inflection, vibrant and provocative, against Selvig’s steady stream of questioning. Loki would have liked that, working into the night on riddles of mind and magic. On Asgard, Thor had lacked the interest. On Earth, Thor simply wanted to give Jane her space.

If something was coming, it would be Jane who found it first, Thor had no doubt of that.

Whether that was to be good or bad was yet to be determined.

Still, the sound of her voice through the walls was comforting, and Thor almost felt guilty for sleeping so soundly that night.

-o-

The following morning, Thor was surprised that he was not the first one up. Despite working late into the night, Selvig and Jane were already putting together a sparse breakfast. They dined amiably before Selvig said he really should be on his way.

“Are you sure?” Jane asked, sounding hopeful. “I could really use a little more help.”

Selvig smiled. “You don’t need any help,” he said. “And I am sure. I was lucky S.H.I.E.L.D. let me away at all.”

“We wish you safe passage,” Thor said. “Your presence is often sorely noted.”

Selvig gathered his bag, shaking his head. “I’d rather be here, all things considered,” he said. “But we do what we have to.”

“You could stay,” Jane said. “With the grant money I’ve got now, it’s more than enough for all of us.”

“Jane,” Selvig said fondly. “You know it’s more than that.”

Jane sighed. “Yeah,” she said regretfully. “I guess I still had to ask.”

“I know the feeling,” Selvig agreed. He paused, reaching out to hug Jane. Pulling her close, he patted her on the back. “Be careful.”

She stepped back. “I’m not so great at careful.”

Selvig made a small grunt of affirmation, turning his attention to Thor. “Then you be careful for her,” he ordered.

Thor stepped closer to Jane, putting an arm around her. “You have my word.”

“Well, then,” Selvig said. “I guess there’s nothing left to do but to get back to work.”

Jane hugged him again; Thor shook his hand. Selvig left in the quiet, sober morning.

They all had jobs to do. Jane with the stars. Selvig at S.H.I.E.L.D.

And though Thor worked construction and served as a fix-it man around town, he knew now what his calling on this planet was. He knew exactly what he had to do.

He was here for Jane.

To honor her, to protect her. He would pledge his life to her.

If he did not have centuries to give her, then the scant years to follow would have to count for something.

Thor hoped, perhaps in his lingering vanity, that they might count for everything.

-o-

Selvig’s visit made little difference to what they did. Their lives remained largely unchanged, despite the growing depth to the threat that might await them. Thor still had to get up and go to work. Jane still tended to her studies. Darcy still assisted as best she could with her colorful commentary as she served at Jane’s side.

What they did remained unchanged.

_How_ they did it, however, was another story.

This was how it was with humans, Thor had learned. Under a pressing threat, they were more likely to rally harder than give in. It was as if the looming possibility of losing what little they had was all they needed to fight harder to retain it. They did not have centuries, but decades, and humans pressed hard for every year they had.

Jane worked harder, turning to her work with more ferocity than ever. She lived and breathed the science, muttering equations under her breath and getting up from dinner when a new revelation hit. Her data collection outpaced Darcy’s ability to log it, and there were many nights when she did not have time to come up to see the stars at all. She had much to learn, and she seemed unwilling to accept the thought that she might not have time to learn it all.

Darcy, though dedicated to Jane, took her life in another direction. With a sense of foreboding, Darcy seemed to take her moments ever more seriously; which was to say, that she didn’t take them seriously at all. She went out often, meeting people and trying new activities. She partied hard on the weekends, and watched movies, downloaded music, bought new clothes. It was a different kind of learning, to be sure, but Thor would not be so rash as to deem it unimportant at all.

As for Thor, he pushed his own horizons. Though he did not crave science and he had steeped himself in popular culture over the last year, he sought to learn more about what it was to be human. He read books and attended plays. He looked at art and photography, looking back of the history of mankind with awe and fascination. He found that he quite enjoyed Shakespeare, though the valiant conflict of Dante was quite inspiring as well. The tale of _Beowulf_ left him sad, but he found hope in Frodo’s triumph in _Lord of the Rings._ He pondered mortality with Yossarian in _Catch-22_ and dreamed of faraway lands where anyone could be a hero in _The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe._

It was Thoreau, however, that left him awake at night, wondering how he had missed something so plain for so long. For it was not the grandeur or the conquest; it was not the ceremonies or the honor. It was the power to live deliberately, to suck out all the marrow of life.

The answer to exile, the answer to danger, the answer to death -- was all very simple.

To live.

Fully and unabashedly.

Day after day, week after week. Whether life was long or short; spectacular or small.

To simply live.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor had thought of his banishment as a punishment. He had thought of it as a trial. He had thought of it as a curse, a hardship, a fate. He had not considered it a stroke of good fortune.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just a quick warning that this chapter contains an incident that almost threatens violence against a woman. It never comes to anything, but there is the hint of a threat, so I just wanted to warn for that.

Not that everything was serious.

Yes, the pressure to learn more at the lab was daunting. And true, Thor’s job did take a cumulative toll on his body. No one could possibly deny that Selvig’s warning didn’t carry significant weight.

But Thor had never been one to take things _too_ seriously for long.

Which was fortunate when Darcy wanted to take him to something called karaoke.

Thor had heard mention of these antics, but the stories had always confounded him.

“It’s amazing,” Darcy said. “Alcohol and music and public displays of idiocy. You could _not_ possibly ask for more.”

Jane rolled her eyes. “It’s stupid,” she said. “And it’s ridiculous.”

“Which is why it’s _fun_ ,” Darcy said.

“Where can we find such fun?” Thor asked.

“Oh, lots of bars will have a karaoke night,” Darcy said. “Puente Antiguo is just so small that no one seems to remember how to actually do anything besides drink.”

“They’re in bars because you have to be a little tipsy to even get up on stage,” Jane said. “It’s not that fun.”

“Ugh,” Darcy said. “It’s amazing, and we’re going.”

Jane started. “You can go--”

“You have worked me until nine o’clock the last three nights,” Darcy said. “Tonight we are taking off at five and driving to the closest karaoke bar, and you are singing. Both of you. Loudly. To whatever song I choose. Understood?”

“Hey, I thought I was your boss,” Jane protested.

“Then try paying me overtime,” Darcy said. She glanced at Thor with a thoughtful grin. “Besides, you know you’re curious to see how Thor performs under pressure.”

Thor raised his eyebrows.

“Oh, please,” Jane said dismissively.

“I have always been quite good under pressure,” Thor said.

Darcy shrugged her shoulders sagely. “Only one way to find out.”

Jane stared at Darcy. Then she glanced at Thor. She drew a breath and huffed. “Fine, I’ll go,” she said. “But I’m not singing.”

“Sure,” Darcy said sarcastically.

Jane glared. “ _I’m not_.”

“I’m going to change,” Darcy said, moving toward the bathroom. “Be ready in ten!”

Jane looked at Thor, scowling a little bit. “I’m not.”

Thor reached over and hugged her. “Of course not,” he assured her, rubbing her arm. “But it does sound fun.”

“Ugh,” Jane said, pulling away as she rolled her eyes. “I’ll meet you in the car.”

-o-

Jane sulked on the way, but Darcy did not seem to mind. Thor tried to engage her in polite conversation, prompting her about science, but Darcy cut him off.

“La la la,” she said. “No science.”

“I was just trying to ask a question,” Thor said.

“You’re trying to be nice and polite and a good boyfriend and all that,” Darcy said. “I get it. But the only way to get her to lighten up is to give her a few drinks and put a microphone in her hand.”

“I told you,” Jane said from the driver’s seat. “I’m not singing. Someone has to drive us home.”

“Thor has the metabolism of a Norse god,” Darcy said. “Kind of literally, actually. He can drive.”

“I would be happy to limit my consumption--”

“Uh uh uh,” Jane said. “I’m driving! No singing! _Driving_.”

“That’s sort of the point of a karaoke bar,” Darcy said.

“Your idea,” Jane said. “Not mine. We really should be back at the lab--”

“Oh, come on,” Darcy said. “If you bring up work once, then I’m going to make you sing.”

“Fine,” Jane said. “No science, no singing. That’s my deal.”

“Ugh, whatever,” Darcy said. “As long as there’s alcohol.”

-o-

There was, indeed, alcohol. The bar was already crowded when they arrived, and Thor secured them a table not far from the stage. They started with a round of beers, but Darcy finished hers promptly and went looking for another.

“You know,” Thor said. “Darcy has been working hard.”

“I know that,” Jane said.

“So she is entitled to some recreation,” Thor said. “We all are.”

“I know that, too,” Jane said. “And if she wants to sing karaoke, then I’m totally being here to support her.”

“But maybe it’s not just that,” Thor said. “It is not just what we do, but who we share it with.”

“I’m her boss,” Jane said.

Thor looked at her.

“Well,” Jane said. “I mean, _technically._ ”

“We have been through many things together,” Thor said. “And you and Darcy have spent even more time together.”

“She was my only job applicant,” Jane said. “She’s totally qualified for anything other than what she’s doing.”

“And yet she stays,” Thor said. “And you still keep her employed.”

Jane sighed. “You’re saying I should sing.”

“I’m saying she’s your friend,” Thor said.

Jane slouched. “Since when did you start teaching me about being human?”

Thor grinned. “Everything I know I learned from you.”

She brightened, leaning across the seat to kiss him. “I love you.”

“Enough to sing with me?”

Jane scoffed. “Don’t push it.”

-o-

On the stage, Jane looked nervous. Darcy smirked as she handed Jane a microphone. For a moment, Thor felt guilty at witnessing the trepidation on Jane’s face. His primary goal was to protect, and seeing her so clearly uncomfortable went against his nature.

Darcy, on the other hand, was beaming when the soundtrack started. The music sounded dated -- the 80s, as best Thor could tell -- but before he could further identify the song, Darcy started singing.

She wasn’t particularly talented, but she made up for it in passion. Next to her, Jane rocked awkwardly to the beat, waiting for her cue. As the music swelled, Darcy looked at Jane, and Jane started to sing.

“ _If you’re lost you can look and you will find me,_ ” they sang together, voices not quite meshing, Jane just a half beat behind Darcy. “ _Time after time._ ”

Someone in the audience whistled. There was smattering applause. Jane grinned in embarrassment, and Darcy raised her voice louder as the music made her grow bolder.

“ _If you fall I will catch you, I’ll be waiting,_ ” they harmonized. Jane’s eyes turned out, settling on Thor before her voice steadied on the tune. “ _Time after time._ ”

On the second verse, Jane took the lead, leaving Darcy to dance impassionedly beside her. The crowd was cheering as they entered the chorus again. 

“ _You said go slow, I fall behind,_ ” came the words as the song progressed, more confidently now if not more in tune. “ _The second hand unwinds._ ”

It was a remarkable thing, to watch them come together. To see them fall in sync with one another. In his many years, Thor had seen countless feats. Even from Jane and Darcy, he had seen far greater things that the world would deem more worthy.

But watching them, Thor wondered it that missed the point. It would be a mistake to diminish the accomplishment on Asgard or on Earth -- for they did indeed matter. But in an unending quest to conquer the unknown, sometimes it was easy to overlook the greatest battles inside the heart. The fear that comes from stepping outside your comfort zone. The vulnerability of opening up your heart to someone you care about. The tentative audacity of putting somebody else first.

Such things were sometimes the hardest feats. At the very least, Thor thought they might be the most important.

Jane’s eyes turned toward him, smiling as she sang to the dimming soundtrack. “ _Time after time._ ”

Thor smiled back, feeling more fortunate than ever to have the privilege of witnessing such things.

-o-

After leaving the stage in a chorus of applause, Jane ducked back to her seat, face red. “I can’t believe I did that.”

“It was very good,” Thor said.

Darcy took a swift drink of the beers Thor had ordered. “It was more than good,” she said. “It was amazing.”

“I think I might have been off-key or something,” Jane said.

“Oh, you were,” Darcy said. “You’re practically tone deaf and you have no sense of rhythm.”

Jane’s brow furrowed.

Darcy finished her drink with a satisfied smirk. “Which is why it was so very, very amazing.”

“Well,” Jane said. “Now that that’s done--”

Darcy shook her head. “Uh uh,” she said. “I asked for a night off, and you are giving me a night off.”

“But what are we going to do?” Jane asked.

“You can sit here and stare dopey-eyed at your boyfriend or whatever,” Darcy said. “I am going to leverage my newfound acclaim and the comfortable buzz I’ve got going right now. I get until daybreak, understood?”

Jane faltered, at a loss for words, while Thor raised his eyebrows.

Darcy grinned at them, making a grand exit toward a pair of men at the bar.

“Well,” Jane said, looking to Thor with a small, scoffing laugh. “What do you want to do?”

Thor shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “The entertainment is not so bad.”

“And they have pool,” Jane said.

“I have gotten much better since the last time we played,” Thor told her. He leaned forward. “Though I must admit, Darcy’s suggestion of staring dopey-eyed at one another actually sounds somewhat appealing.”

Blushing, Jane obviously could not stop her smile. “I’m not usually very good at dopey-eyed,” she admitted, biting her lip for a moment. “But buy me another drink, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Thor was only too happy to comply.

-o-

Thor had had few talents outside the training grounds. Although he was duly literate, he had no great affinity for figurative language. He could appreciate a thing of artistic worth but would be hard-pressed to recreate anything similar. In most things, Thor was competent, but unremarkable. Only after he had lost Mjölnir did he appreciate that he gained as much worth from it as it gave to him.

Musically speaking, it was much the same. His mother had insisted upon basic music education as part of his tutoring program, but he had lacked any aptitude for it. Music made gaiety livelier and he had found some pleasure singing the oral tales of his forefathers, but to say he was less than endowed in this area would be an understatement.

Therefore, he was somewhat surprised to find that most of the people who took the stage at karaoke night were as poorly endowed as he was.

Some were even worse.

Thor’s ears was not finely adapted for the nuanced, but he had listened extensively to music while Earth. Some of the songs being sung were even ones he recognized, if only by the lyrics and score. 

The vocals, however.

Well, they varied wildly. Some people were too timid. Others were dreadfully off-key. Some rushed the tempo while others seemed to be singing a different song entirely. As far as performances went, the musical selection was hardly worth noting.

Yet, Thor found that he had never seen anything so engrossing. For those who took the stage did so almost in clear understanding of their limitations. They did not need to be excellent. They only needed to be themselves.

Earth, in many ways, was a planet of mediocrity. Its people were short-lived and painfully naive. Some might see their boldness as diminutive; Thor wondered if worth was not what you were limited by, but what you dreamed for. It was not so much a question of talent but a matter of effort that defined them. It gave them worth where others might see none.

Sitting close to Jane he clapped loudly for each performance, each one more than the last, feeling a strange sense of hope solidifying in his chest with every passing song.

-o-

Hope gave way to alcohol.

By Darcy’s second performance, her inhibitions were gone entirely. During her third, she hung off the arm of a gentleman Thor had never seen before; giggling as she somehow sang an entirely different song.

He and Jane played a game of pool, but when she started the tequila shots, the contest became anything but. Though Thor was careful to stop ordering drinks for his friends, he could not bring himself to entirely regret their ambiance. For they laughed heartily and Jane held him closer than usual.

“I meant it, you know?” she said. “I’ll be there. _Time after time._ ”

“You have already proven this,” Thor assured her.

Jane swallowed, looking as serious as she could. “I’m so glad I hit you with my car,” she said. “Twice.”

Chuckling, Thor pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Me, too.”

“Oh, hey!” Jane said, sitting up suddenly. “I have an idea!”

Thor looked vaguely apprehensive.

Jane tugged on his arm. “Come on,” she whined. “Trust me.”

That was a request Thor would never deny.

-o-

Thor was scared of nothing. There had been no trial he’d face that he’d felt daunted by. He had charged into Jotunheim, surrounded by his enemies with everything to lose, and been undeterred.

But standing on that stage, looking out over the other patrons of the bar, Thor felt a moment of uncertainty. He had been forced into many foreign situations; he had undertaken numerous embarrassing tasks. But with the lights in his eyes and the faces of strangers turned toward him, he felt his throat tighten.

Nervously, he adjusted his grip on the microphone, feeling himself begin to sweat. The music started and Thor glanced at the screen, anxiously.

For all that he could appreciate the feats of others on this small stage, he found himself less than confident. He had made it his goal to live simply on Earth, to blend in and fit into their culture. He had not sought out acclaim, and the so called limelight was suddenly more than he could take. To think, there had been a time he had strode into the throne room, brashly brandishing Mjölnir to a crowd of thousands.

Now, he stood on a small wood stage, clutching a microphone while his heart hammered in his chest.

He had fallen far; maybe too far. In this lowly state, what did he hope to accomplish? What did he think he could do?

Jane reached out, taking his free hand in hers. He looked at her, and she beamed at him, squeezing his fingers.

His heart steadied. His stance solidified. Smiling wide, he turned back to the crowd, glancing at the screen before Jane started to sing.

“ _They say we’re young and we don’t know,_ ” her voice trembled as she looked back at him. “ _We won’t find out until we’re grown._ ”

With his cue, Thor joined in. “ _Well I don’t know if all that’s true,_ ” he started, even though the sound of his own voice sounded awkward over the background music. But Jane’s eyes were bright, fixed on him. “ _Cause you got me, and baby, I got you._ ”

“ _Babe,_ ” Jane said, linking her voice with his. “ _I got you, babe. I got you, babe._ ”

The crowd tittered, and Thor took a moment to wipe his palm on his shirt. He was nervous, but strangely exhilarated. All those times he had sought out attention, and now being in front of an audience, they meant nothing to him.

The only thing that mattered was Jane.

She took her cue from the screen, starting again. Perhaps Darcy was right, and her voice was less than perfect. And perhaps Thor had neglected his music lessons far too often. Perhaps they fumbled the lyrics and fell off the beat. But they laughed over the hard parts, entwining their fingers as they kept up to the pace of the music.

“ _Don’t let them say your hair’s too long,_ ” Jane said, flicking his hair over his shoulder with a grin. “ _Cause I don’t care, with you I can’t go wrong._ ”

Thor felt the emotion rise within him. “ _Then put your little hand in mine_ ,” he sang. “ _There ain’t no hill or mountain we can’t climb._ ”

“ _Babe,_ ” they sang together. “ _I got you, babe. I got you, babe._ ”

It was not an eloquent poem. The tune was not epic in its scope. It was a simple song born of simple people in a simple time.

Yet, nothing had ever felt truer.

Nothing had ever felt more right.

Thor had lost so much, but what he had _mattered._

What would his father say if he saw him like this? What would his mother do seeing him taking pleasure in such menial things? What would his friends think? What jokes would his brother make?

It did not matter, for none of them were here.

Jane was here, though.

And so was Thor.

“ _I got you to hold my hand, I got you to to understand, I got you to walk with me, I got you to talk with me,_ ” the song went on. “ _I got you to kiss goodnight, I got you to hold me tight. I got you, I won’t let go. I got you to love me so._ ”

It was a promise. It was a last hope.

Better still, it was a first hope.

“ _I got you, babe,_ ” they sang as the song drew to its end. “ _I got you, babe._ ”

Jane devolved into laughter as the crowd clapped. Flush with adrenaline, Thor pulled Jane close with a kiss, which just made the crowd cheer more. He lifted her in his arms, twirling them both before setting her down.

“I mean it, you know,” he said. “ _I got you._ ”

“Yeah,” she agreed, beaming at him now. “Lucky for both of us.”

Thor had thought of his banishment as a punishment. He had thought of it as a trial. He had thought of it as a curse, a hardship, a fate.

He had not considered it a stroke of good fortune.

But as he walked off the stage with Jane, he thought maybe it was time to start.

-o-

At that point, Thor would have gladly gone home. Though he had always enjoyed revelry, he found a new appreciation for withdrawing to more private quarters.

Especially when he had someone to withdraw with.

He had never left a celebration early in his life back on Asgard, but many things had changed for him on Earth.

However, it was not to be that night. Although Jane was not quite drunk, she was moderately affected by her alcohol consumption, which made her more amenable than usual. She seemed to be having fun, singing and playing pool, telling jokes and reminiscing about her life growing up. While Thor would be quite glad to go back home, it was not often that Jane was able to free herself so completely from work, and Thor could not bring himself to change that.

Moreover, he was learning quite a bit about her, from her pet dog during childhood to her initial courtship with the real Donald Blake.

She would never have been this forthcoming in a normal situation.

Plus, they had to stay for Darcy. Where Jane was tipsy, Darcy was probably past the point of no return. She was, however, surprisingly agile in her inebriated state, and Thor found himself keeping a close eye on her as she found her way to almost every eligible person in the establishment.

It wasn’t so hard, though, given that she spent half of that time on stage. She did have an impressive repertoire of musical experience.

So Thor would gladly have gone home.

But since most of what he cared about was right here in front of him, he was just as glad to stay.

-o-

“I mean, I know I wasn’t great at it,” Jane said, gesturing widely. “But honestly, I at least tried. I mean, sure, I stood him up for a couple dates but only because of _science_. Because I literally didn’t know what time it was -- you know how I get!”

Thor nodded seriously.

“And he was all, you have to choose, me or your work, blah, blah, blah,” Jane said in what Thor could only hope was a horrible impersonation of her ex-boyfriend. “Which was totally ironic since he never put me before his job. I understood when he was on call. I understood when there was an emergency. But what I never understood was how I was expected to bend over backward to accommodate him and his career. Like, he thought it was no big deal, I could just move to Chicago. Except what I study is very specific to my location. For him? There are doctors everywhere. And I’m the unreasonable one.”

“Well, I can understand how he might want to be with you,” Thor said.

She scoffed. “Only when it was convenient!” she said. “Like, he wanted me on his arm for every event but when we got there, I wasn’t supposed to say anything. Like, if I even mentioned the stars or quantum theory, he would get all bent out of shape, saying it was his time and his night and it was just too much.”

Thor gave her a sympathetic look. “If he did not appreciate your intellect and respect your contributions, then he did not deserve you,” he said. “You made a wise decision.”

Jane’s face twisted sadly. “He dumped me,” she said. “I visited him in Chicago and he told me he’d met someone else. A nurse. He actually left me for a nurse because he is completely a cliché.”

“His loss,” Thor said. “It is my gain.”

She smiled at that. “But what about you?” she said. “If you’ve been alive for, like, hundreds of years, don’t you have some exes?”

Thor had never been wanting for company, and he had been known to indulge from time to time. However, the question of courtship had always been far from his mind, though his mother had hinted that it might be prudent for the future king of Asgard to settle down and take a wife.

Thor had thought her advice to be limited.

As it turned out, it hardly mattered.

He shook his head. “Our dating rituals are vastly different than yours,” he said.

“Oh?” Jane asked.

“We take the idea of courtship very seriously,” Thor told her. “While dalliances are not uncommon, we view a committed relationship as a profound step.”

Jane actually looked surprised by this. “So, you live thousands of years and only settle down once? Really?”

“Well,” Thor said, shrugging. “After several hundred years, the appeal of playing the field lessens.”

Jane laughed. “So you never settled?” she asked. “There was never someone you wanted to commit to?”

“I had many other things in my life on Asgard,” Thor said. “I thought myself too busy for family. I was preoccupied with my training and thoughts of ruling.”

“Well, work is a big reason a lot of relationships don’t work out here, too,” Jane said.

Thor frowned, thoughtful for a moment. “I always thought there were more important things,” he said. “I believed I was too important.”

He looked at Jane.

“I was wrong, though,” he said. “There is nothing more important.”

Her smile brightened her face, and she shook her head. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?” he asked.

“Know the exact right thing to say at the exact right moment,” she said.

“Well,” he murmured, picking up her hand and pressing it to his lips. “I have some compelling motivation.”

Flushing, she shook her head again. “Your gallantry is good,” she said. “But right now, I think we should skip the chivalry and totally make out.”

And that, Thor decided, was the best idea of the evening by far.

-o-

Thor was not drunk.

Although he felt giddy and elated, he could attribute such emotions to the natural high of spontaneous singing and intimacy with his girlfriend. Although Thor had discovered he had what humans considered to be a high threshold for alcoholic beverages, he had also learned that drinking more than a few beers before getting into a vehicle made people nervous. Accordingly, he had quickly obliged the customs and refrained from drinking in such quantities when he was expected to drive.

As the designated driver, he had been dutiful in limiting his consumption. This was all for the best, he decided, because he would not need alcohol to keep his spirits buoyant that night.

In fact, in his many years, it was hard to say when he had felt better. Feats in hunting and tournaments had been exhilarating, to be sure. And there was always a certain thrill of talking his friends into covert exploits that his father would berate him for. At least, that was what Thor had thought until he’d snuck into Jotunheim and started a war.

Looking back, it occurred to him that he had few accomplishments outside those realms. He had shared good moments with his friends, but rarely outside competitive contexts. True, he did love entertaining a night with Fandral and whatever women they happened to woo. And yes, he very much liked being hosted at Volstagg’s home, where his children made him laugh plenty. He had even taken trips with Hogun, pressing over mountains to watch the sunrise together in companionable silence, standing at the top to look out over the expanse with a quiet satisfaction.

And Sif had provided him a wide range of company, from being his best sparring partner to being his closest confidante. He had enjoyed her company and her conversation greatly over the years.

Above them all, however, he had taken pleasure in his time with Loki. Though he and his brother had entertained diverging interests in their later years, there was still no one that could rouse his energies quite like his brother. Their exploits around the palace were something of legend, and Thor could recall many late nights when Loki snuck into his bed chamber just to talk until the morning light broke lightly through the windows.

He had overlooked all of these, of course, and traded on them for greater glory in his own eyes. He had never understood the worth of those experiences in such a way that he probably had never deserved them at all.

Sitting with Jane, nestled side by side in a back booth in a dim corner, he was not sure he deserved this either. A place to belong; someone to love.

Someone to love him, not for his exploits but for who he was.

Thor was not drunk.

But, as the saying seemed to be on Earth, he was riding higher than ever before.

-o-

When Thor first heard the commotion, he thought little of it. This was a place of drinking; scuffles were not unheard of. In fact, he found that humans were actual far less noisy when pursuing an altercation with one another. Most of them were actually quite timid, no matter how much bravado they seemed to possess when inebriated.

But then, he heard Darcy.

“What the hell?” she exclaimed.

Thor turned, directing his attention to the bar where Darcy was currently seated with several others, mostly men.

“You let me buy you drinks all night, and then you say you’re not interested?” the man said.

Darcy scoffed. “I had a good time and all--”

“Because I bought you the drinks!” the man said, voice rising now as he got out of his chair and loomed over Darcy.

Darcy, though slight in stature, was not slight in confidence. Thor would not forget that this small woman was the one who had tased him his first night on this planet. “I never asked you for anything,” she said, getting up off her own stool. She swayed for a moment, but righted herself quickly, which was remarkable given that Thor had to assume she was, in fact, very drunk. “I think I should just go--”

The man’s face was twisted with rage, the kind Thor had seen mostly on the battlefield. The kind of hatred that swelled from injustice, whether it was perceived or valid. The kind of rage that precipitated action.

Only this wasn’t a battlefield. There was no injustice. There was no action the man could take that Thor would tolerate. Not for Darcy; not for anyone.

The man reached out, hand moving to grasp Darcy’s arm, but he never had the chance.

Not when Thor was on his feet, cutting his way across the floor in less than a second.

Positioned in front of Darcy, Thor pulled himself to his fullest stature, squaring his shoulders to look down at the man.

The man made a face of contempt. “What the hell, bro?”

“I think it is you who should go,” Thor said flatly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

This man however, seemed not to realize his own peril. Although Thor was mortal, he was still a strong and capable man. Though he felt weak compared to his former self, he knew from experience that he was regarded as one of the strongest men in New Mexico.

More than that, he took some satisfaction in knowing he had downed some of Earth’s very best at the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. At the time, he had assumed he had his powers, but in retrospect, he’d realized that it was just his natural mortal ability. He was a trained fighter, and he was a very good one.

And this man -- in addition to be skinny and unimposing -- was drunk.

The fact that he dared challenge Thor was laughable.

Indeed, in another circumstance, Thor might have made light.

But this was no other circumstance.

This was a woman with her honor publicly maligned. This was his friend with her safety in jeopardy.

Mostly, this was Darcy.

The man stepped closer, puffing his chest out in utter vanity. “Yeah?” the man asked. “You going to make me?”

Thor did not flinch. “Trust me,” he said. “You do not want it to come to that.”

The man wrinkled his nose. “Are you calling me weak?”

“I’m saying it is plain to everyone who is the lesser man,” Thor said. “And it has nothing to do with your drunken state or your diminutive stature--”

The man’s face contorted, and he reared back, throwing a punch hard at Thor’s jaw.

At least, Thor could only suppose that had been his intention.

Thor saw the motion easily, and intercepted the punch before it landed. Neatly taking the man’s arm, he twisted, pushing the man face first toward the bar and leaning forward with enough pressure on his arm to make him yelp.

The crowd gasped, going eerily silent. Thor was readily aware that though he was not on stage, he still had an audience.

His heart was pounding; his adrenaline raged.

He had always gone for the kill before. He was not one to relent, even in the face of better judgment most of the time.

But Earth had rules. It had laws and regulation, and Thor was subject to them as much as he had been subject to his father’s laws. He had suffered his father’s wrath.

He would not endure such punishment here.

Instead, he leaned forward. “As I said,” he told the man. “You were just leaving now.”

Purposefully, Thor let go, stepping back but not stepping away. The man righted himself, red faced as he adjusted his shirt. “Fine,” the man replied sharply. “You can have the little bitch.”

Before Thor could say anything, Darcy stepped forward. “For the record, if you need to buy beers to get a girl to like you, then maybe the problem’s not them,” she said. “It’s probably you.”

With that, she turned, stalking toward the door. Thor watched the man for a minute, assuring himself that the man intended no further action, before following after Darcy. He caught up to her quickly. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“What?” Darcy said. “Oh, yeah. I mean, that was totally awesome. Except I’m totally drunk right now.”

“Do you need assistance?” Thor asked.

Darcy faltered. “Yes,” she said, steadying herself on Thor’s arm. “I think I do.”

-o-

Depositing Darcy on the bench of the booth, Thor turned his attention to Jane. “I will go pay our bill,” he said. “Then I do believe that we should retire for the evening.”

On the seat, Darcy giggled. “Retire,” she repeated, inexplicably amused.

Thor shook his head. “I will just be a minute.”

“Hey,” Jane said. “You know, what you did there--”

“Was nothing,” Thor concluded for her.

“I totally thought you were going to lose it,” she admitted. “Like, that time back at S.H.I.E.L.D. When you knocked through all those guys.”

“I used to believe that violence was a simple answer to any number of problems,” Thor told her.

“And now?” Jane asked.

Thor glanced at Darcy before looking at Jane again. “I would fight always for what is right,” he said. “I have merely discovered that my fists are not always necessary.”

Darcy swore, giggling again. “Especially not with a body like that,” she said. “I think you could win half your fights just by showing up.”

Thor gave her a look.

“She’s right,” Jane said. “You’re impressive.”

Thor lifted his eyebrows with interest at Jane.

“I mean, your restraint,” Jane said. “And your body. I mean. Just. I’m impressed.”

Thor tried to hold back his smile. “I have never felt so commended for _not_ fighting in all my life.”

Jane wrinkled her nose. “Really?”

“I should pay our bill,” he said, quickly changing the topic. “If either of you need to use the bathroom--”

“We’ll be ready,” Jane said.

“For the record,” Darcy said, holding up one wobbly finger. “This is still the best night out. _Ever_.”

As Thor cashed out for the evening, he considered that. From the singing to the bonding to the near fighting, it had been eventful to say the least. But he had learned to not only how to embrace humility, but vulnerability as well. On a stage in front of strangers, sharing stories with the woman he loved, facing down an enemy without resorting to his fists.

Darcy was right.

This was probably the best night out he’d had in a long, long time.

-o-

The bill was much less than Thor had expected, though Darcy had spent the better part of the evening accumulating new friends to indulge her. Even so, Thor left a generous tip and apologized to the bartender for the near conflict before going back to collect Jane and Darcy. Darcy was lying back on the bench, and Jane was nowhere to be found.

“Where is Jane?” Thor asked, looking keenly about the room.

“She had to pee,” Darcy said. “I think. I might have imagined that, too.”

“Too?” Thor asked.

“Like the part where I imagined that you stripped naked and started dancing on the table,” Darcy said. “Unless that’s a premonition?”

Thor laughed, reaching down to offer her a hand. She complied, grunting as he pulled her aloft. “You already saw me sing in front of people,” he reminded her. “That is enough excitement for one night.”

“It would have been better to do it naked,” Darcy muttered petulantly.

“I will take that under advisement,” Thor told her. “Now, are you ready to walk?”

“Sure,” Darcy said. “If by ready you mean ready to pass out on the floor.”

“Ah,” Thor said. “So we will go slowly.”

With that, he pulled her to her feet, waiting close by while she steadied herself. “You know,” Darcy said, leaning heavily on Thor for balance. “You really didn’t have to do that earlier. With that guy.”

Thor looked at her curiously.

“It was just a dick being a dick,” Darcy said. “I’m not so drunk that I couldn’t have dealt with it.”

“I do not doubt your skills,” Thor said. “You are the one who tased me on the night we first met.”

Darcy laughed. “Oh, that’s right, I did,” she said. “Have I apologized for that?”

“Numerous times,” Thor assured her. “But truly, that is not why I intervened.”

“Yeah?” Darcy asked.

“I know something of being out of line,” Thor told her truthfully. “It is unbecoming to behold.”

“So, what,” Darcy said. “You were defending my honor? That’s a little archaic, even for you.”

“I was defending my friend,” Thor clarified. “I don’t care what you call it; it was merely the right thing to do.”

Darcy looked at him for a long moment before nodding. “Thank you,” she said.

Thor smiled back at her. “Any time,” he said. “Now. Shall we?”

“We shall,” Darcy said. She started forward. Then stopped. “Right after I go throw up.”

With that, she bolted to the bathroom, almost running into Jane as she came out. Jane came toward him, looking concerned. “Everything okay?”

Thor nodded. “Besides the hangover you and Darcy will share tomorrow?”

Jane made a pained face.

Thor put an arm around her, reassuringly. “Everything is fine.”

-o-

They made it out to the car without further incident. Darcy was asleep in the back seat before Thor could get the car out of the parking lot, and though Jane hummed in the front seat next to Thor, she was asleep not long after that. The hour was late, and with the alcohol that had been consumed, this was not unexpected. Thor would have enjoyed some company, but in his exile, he had discovered that he did not mind silence.

There had been a time, not so long ago, that silence had made him uncomfortable. In his previous life, he had been accustomed to keeping his own company. He had never been wanting for distraction because one was always provided for him if he sought it. He had thought that to be a blessing, one of the benefits of his station.

He had not wanted to reflect or to think too hard. He had had little interest in his own personal betterment outside the battlefield.

While he still enjoyed crowds and parties and friends -- for Thor would always be social -- he now realized the benefit of silence. To think on what he had lost and what he had learned.

To think of what he had gained.

He checked the mirror to see Darcy. He glanced sideways to check Jane.

It was funny, really. To win a fight with restraint. To stand for a cause without smashing it to smithereens. He had always thought Mjölnir was his strength, but perhaps he was wrong about that as he was many other things.

Perhaps his strength was more than that.

He no longer had to be worthy to live a worthwhile life.

That was a significant change, not proven on a battlefield or in a throne room, but in a small town bar. No one would commemorate this night with song or poem -- indeed, no one would probably remember it in the morning -- but Thor would count it as a victory all the same.

-o-

The following morning, Thor was up early but did his best to keep himself quiet. He was an early riser, and he always had been, much to Loki’s chagrin. Back on Asgard, he had found it amusing to rouse Loki before his younger brother was ready, in the name of good brotherly fun.

Thor thought fondly of those days. It only occurred to him now that Loki might not share those feelings.

At any rate, he knew that Jane and Darcy would likely sleep late, and he set himself about his morning routine. He tidied up and made himself something small for breakfast. He started a pot of coffee, and then read the morning paper. It was a tedious way to get news, but Thor found the archaic means of turning oversized pages to be somewhat quaint.

Besides it was a tactile experience, and Thor had always preferred such things. He liked to learn by doing, and sometimes clicking on headlines on the Internet simply felt lacking. This way, he also got to read the comics, which he was learning to be amused by. Sometimes the humor was too nuanced, but simple physical amusement could not fail to make him laugh.

His father would be appalled. His mother would bemoan his lack of culture.

But they were not here.

Even so, Thor made efforts to better himself in other ways. After reading the comics, he also did the crossword puzzle. He found it most educational, and he enjoyed the challenge. It felt truly accomplished to fill in the last blanks and cross off the last clue.

Once, Thor had defended planets.

Now, he could conquer the New York Times.

Thor would take his victories wherever he could find them.

That being concluded, Thor turned his attention to the clock. The morning was slipping away, so he decided to take the initiative and make a late breakfast for when his friends finally awoke. Though Jane did not drink heavily often, he had learned from experience that she was not likely to sleep past noon. Darcy, on the other hand, would prefer to sleep as late as she could, but if Thor made waffles, she would inevitably be drawn to the smell.

He turned on some music – his _what the hell_ playlist, as Darcy had entitled it, declaring that this assortment of songs could not reasonably be collected in any of his other playlists -- and hummed contentedly to himself while he cooked.

Jane was the first to come in, trudging in from her trailer in the clothes from last night. Her hair was still messy, and she looked at Thor with a grimace. “Why did you let me drink so much last night?” she asked.

Thor shrugged. “You were having fun.”

“At what cost, though?” Jane moaned, flopping into a chair at the table. “Seriously, what kind of boyfriend are you?”

“One who respects that you are a smart, resourceful, independent woman, fully capable of making her own decisions,” Thor said, putting a plate of food in front of her.

She huffs. “I hate that that’s the best answer ever,” she said morosely.

Thor brought her a steaming cup of coffee. “Cheer up,” Thor said.

“I’ll feel better soon?” Jane asked hopefully.

“No, you may feel sick for hours,” Thor said. “But I assure you, Darcy will feel worse.”

Jane made a face. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

Thor shrugged. “It shouldn’t make you feel worse.”

Jane grunted, taking a sip of coffee. “My boyfriend,” she muttered. “Intergalactic optimist.”

Though he said nothing, Thor rather liked the sound of that.

-o-

As expected, Darcy appeared when Thor put on the waffles. Jane had finished one cup of coffee and a small helping of eggs when Darcy trudged out of Thor’s bedroom, where he had helped her to bed last night.

“Waffles?” Darcy asked.

Thor smiled broadly. “Almost done,” he told her.

“Waffles are amazing,” Darcy said.

Jane wrinkled her nose. “You feel okay?”

“My head is killing me and I sort of want to die,” Darcy said.

Thor raised his eyebrows, serving her a plate of food.

“But not until my waffles are gone,” she said. “Damn. Are you sure you want to stick with Jane? Because you would be an excellent boyfriend.”

Jane glared at her, but Thor merely laughed. “We do not have to be dating for me to show you the kindness you deserve.”

Darcy poured syrup liberally over her plate. “I guess I can live with that.”

“Next time,” Jane said. “We don’t need to take a night off quite so literally.”

Darcy cut into her waffle. “Next time, maybe we won’t have to,” she said.

Jane inclined her head. “That may be a fair point,” she said. “But we do have a lot of work to do--”

“Ugh, Jane,” Darcy said. “We will always have work to do.”

“Okay, okay,” Jane relented. “But karaoke?”

“We drank, we sang, we conquered,” Darcy said. “And now, we’re eating waffles. How is this not a win?”

“Um, the pounding headache--”

“Which would hurt a lot less if you weren’t complaining while I try to enjoy these waffles!” Darcy said.

Thor settled down with a plate of his own. He had eaten earlier, but a second breakfast was not uncommon for him. “Please,” he said reasonably. “You are both right. Life must be a balance of work and recreation. We need to accomplish our tasks but still be true to ourselves. We must live cohesive lives, entirely integrated for maximum productivity and self-satisfaction.”

Jane stared at him.

Darcy chewed. “Someone’s been watching Dr. Phil,” she commented. She took a swig of coffee. “I take it back, Jane. He’s all yours. I’m just here for the waffles.”

Jane shook her head. “How is it possible for you to be respectful, eager, pleasant, insightful and a good cook?”

“It is no great feat,” Thor said.

“Um, yeah,” Jane said. “I think it is.”

Thor shook his head dismissively. “I have a good life,” he said. “I have much to be positive about. You call it optimism; I see it as a natural reflection of the good things I have been given.”

“Well,” Darcy said. “At least we can be sure that he’s really not from this planet. Because _no man_ talks like that. Except on television and movies, and you know, even then, it’s not so impressive.”

Thor rolled his eyes. “You exaggerate.”

“Not by much,” Jane said. “I mean, every time I think about being down or unhappy, there’s you.”

Thor had to smile at that. It was not a grand commendation. It was not a feast to his greatness. It was not a coronation in his father’s halls.

But he had never felt anything to be more hard won in his life.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” he asked. “More waffles?”

“Mm,” Darcy said around another mouthful. “Yes, please.”

“Jane?” Thor asked.

She shrugged. “Whatever you feel like getting.”

Thor willingly obliged them both.

-o-

Thor had always liked to please people. However, on Asgard, he had enjoyed earning approval with praise and accolades.

On Earth, he preferred to work for the satisfaction of making someone else genuinely happy.

“Now you’re sure you can do it,” Travis said fretfully.

“I have handled animals often in the past,” Thor promised. “Many of which were wild.”

“That’s sort of my concern,” Travis said. “The first day you came in here, you wanted to ride a dog.”

“Or a cat,” Thor said.

Travis looked distressed.

Thor shook his head. “It was a poor joke,” he said, still feeling sheepish for his audacious demands his first few days on Earth. He had been presumptive and vain, and he had caused havoc and insulted people. Though most of the town seemed to have forgotten his eccentric first appearance on Earth, Travis had never been so easily won over. That was what Thor hoped to rectify.

“It wasn’t funny,” Travis said.

Thor drew his eyebrows together gravely. “I have nothing but respect and love for animals,” he said. This much had always been true, it just so happened that house pets were not common on Asgard. Animals were far more utilitarian, and it had struck him as perplexing that goats and sheep were so small on this planet. “Please, I only wish to help.”

With a long suffering sigh, Travis relented. “I do need someone to walk the dogs,” he said.

“Wonderful!” Thor said.

“But to start, just around the block,” Travis said.

“Of course,” Thor agreed. “Whatever you are comfortable with.”

Travis pursed his lips. “One block can’t hurt,” he said, as if to assure himself.

“I will take excellent care of them,” Thor promised.

“And no riding?” Travis asked.

“Not in the least,” Thor said. “Though when we get back, if you need help grooming them--”

Travis’ demeanor changed. “Really?”

“I am here to help, Travis,” Thor said. “In any way I can.”

Travis considered this, nodding slowly.

Thor smiled benignly.

He would win over Travis, he had resolved this week, no matter what.

-o-

When one block went well, Travis agreed to let him try another. With this success, Thor volunteered to hose the animals down, and Travis was only too willing to give Thor that responsibility. Thor was careful to be gentle -- these creatures were small and somewhat more fragile than what he was used to -- but at least that made the chance of incidental injury to his own being somewhat less likely.

“Hush, little one,” Thor soothed to the whiny cocker spaniel as he scrubbed behind its ears. “A little wash is not so bad. I know you do not like the water, but it is good for you.”

The puppy wriggled and whined, looking up at Thor beseechingly.

Thor stroked it in commiseration. “Things will be better,” he promised. “Just wait and see.”

Thor had thought himself quite convincing.

The puppy, however, had other plans.

By the end of the bathing period, Thor was just as wet as the cocker spaniel, but nowhere near as clean. He sighed, picking up the puppy and lifting it to look it square in the eyes.

“You clearly do not know who I am,” he said.

The puppy yipped, licking Thor’s nose.

He laughed, returning the puppy to its pen. “Or maybe you do.”

-o-

It took the better part of a day, but Travis was pleased with Thor’s work. When Thor cleaned out the cages and put the newest puppy’s hair in a small braid on the top of her head, the other man beamed.

“That’s excellent!” Travis said. “You’re welcome back any time!”

Thor inclined his head. “If you ever need anything--”

Travis nodded eagerly. “I’ll know just who to call.”

-o-

Travis did call him, many times in fact. So did everyone else. Though Thor was unfamiliar with many tasks he was asked to complete, he was always willing and eager to learn. He had never been particularly exceptional in his academic studies on Asgard, but he had always flourished with hands on work. That fact combined with the antiquated ways on Earth, and Thor was soon regarded as something of a local legend.

If you need something, just call Thor.

Need something down from your attic? Thor can do it, no problem. Have a heavy box you need lifted? Thor is always more than happy to help -- and he takes payment in fresh lemonade and homemade cookies! Thor could pack a moving truck more efficiently than professional movers. He knew how to tame unruly dogs for a jaunt around town, and he always cleaned up their messes. He knew how to tell if a plant needed more water or if it was in danger of being overly saturated.

A fix-it man. A well-rounded citizen. A friend.

It was not quite the same as being the god of thunder, but Thor thought it wasn’t so bad.

-o-

If the rest of his life was becoming a well-worn routine, his time with Jane was ever more experimental. Though they conversed much as they always did, Thor quickly understood the nuances of a dating relationship. There was much more to be gained from such a relationship in terms of intimacy, but it also required a lot more to be given as well.

At first, Thor tried the expected Earth customs. Flowers made her smile, and she did like chocolate, but Jane did not seem to respond to these gestures with as much enthusiasm as he might have hoped. Fine dinners were well and good, but even those seemed no more noteworthy than their homemade meals after hours at the lab.

To remedy this problem, he sought advice from his friends.

“Girls want to feel like you’ve gone above and beyond,” Ricky counseled on the construction site. “The more inconvenient and the more expensive, the better.”

“Nah, that flash is just temporary,” Jose countered. “Make it personal. A woman wants to be acknowledged.”

“They want the flash,” Ricky said, smacking his gum while he shook his head. “Or bling. You can’t go wrong with sparkle.”

Thor nodded, very serious. “Flash and sparkle.”

Jose rolled his eyes. “All that will do is get you broke.”

Ricky laughed. “Or laid.”

Jose sighed. “Ignore him, Thor,” he said. “Just think of your relationship as a construction project. You know what you want it to look like, but you need to have the blueprints in order to figure out how to put it together. If you put things together wrong, you compromise the structural integrity.”

“And the whole damn thing comes tumbling down,” Ricky said, making a mock explosion noise. “You know, that explains why I can’t keep a girlfriend for more than two months.”

“That and other things,” Jose said. He nodded at Thor. “So just break it down. Think about what Jane likes. Think about what would be special to her. And that’s where you get the real bang for your buck.”


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor was no longer in line for the throne. The throne would never be his, and in some ways, that was a relief. He had wanted it more than anything, but he could see now just how ill-prepared he had been. He could not be trusted with much until he could be successful with little.
> 
> Like a six month anniversary.

A blueprint. Thor needed a blueprint.

He needed a plan.

That made sense, and in truth, Thor should have thought of it before. Instead of relying on well-worn Earth clichés, he should have thought about Jane and what she needed and wanted long before now.

The truth was, however, that Thor had never been particularly good at planning. All his life, he had been rash and impetuous, prone to acting out without thinking whatsoever. In the heat of conflict, this had often served him well, but it had made him decidedly short sighted.

His father had told him this. His mother had belabored it. Even Loki had tried to point it out to him, time and again. But Thor had always felt too impatient to plan, and he had much favored trusting his instincts. After all, they had never failed him.

Except all the times they did. Most failures were easy to overlook, and Thor did learn from his mistakes but he had never quite considered that most of them could have been avoided with a little forethought.

And of course, there was the disaster on Jotunheim.

Because Thor hadn’t thought things through. Because he hadn’t planned. Because he had acted rashly and with his instincts and cost himself everything.

It was a cruel fate, and Thor could not bear to have that repeated. Though there was no one whom could banish him from Earth, he was far too aware how attached he was to Jane Foster. If he should fail to please her, being cast out from her presence or even losing her confidence would be devastating. He thought he could spend the rest of his mere years on this planet quite happily, as long as he was with her.

He would settle for being her friend. Indeed, he had never aspired for more than that when he first arrived. But after dating Jane these last few months, he found himself ever more displeased with the idea of losing that.

No; he wanted to stay with Jane.

For as long as they both should live.

He wanted a relationship that would last. He wanted it to be intimate and fun and productive.

Which meant he needed a plan.

-o-

Thor set to brainstorming with fervor. It consumed his attention and his thoughts. He thought of romantic dates and grand gestures while hammering nails. He considered fantastic destinations and delectable meals during his commute. He watched Jane closely; noting what made her laugh, what made her think, what made her eyes light up.

To Thor, there was no topic more fantastic in the galaxy than Jane Foster. He would never be a king. His days as a warrior were behind him. He would never amount to anything special as a mortal.

But if he could but make her happy, then it would all be worth it.

-o-

Thor timed his efforts for their six month anniversary. It seemed like a paltry number, considering his parents’ own marriage spanned for centuries. However, he could not deny that it felt like a milestone, and he wanted to celebrate it as such.

“A weekend?” Jane asked, obviously hedging. “Are you sure you want to take a whole weekend?”

Thor nodded. “Two days is not so long,” he said.

“Well, it’s kind of long,” Jane said, eyes lingering over her equipment. “We do have a lot of data coming in right now.”

Thor rolled his eyes with good humor. “There is always a lot of data.”

“And that’s the point,” Jane said. “I really shouldn’t leave.”

“Two days, Jane,” Thor said. “I have already discussed the matter with Darcy, and she will happily stay at the lab to make sure that nothing goes awry in your absence.”

“But Darcy’s--”

“Smart and capable and has been working by your side faithfully for years?” Thor asked pointedly.

Jane’s mouth opened, but she faltered. “But…”

Thor sighed. “Jane, you know I respect your dedication to your work,” he said. “If you do not believe that you can leave it for two days, then I will abide by your decision. However, I would very much enjoy the opportunity to spend time with you. To honor you and celebrate our relationship. What we have together is special to me. I do not wish to take it for granted.”

Her mouth closed. “Wow,” she said, shaking her head. “You are _way_ too good at making your point.”

He shrugged. “I’ve been developing my case all week.”

“I’m not _that_ bad,” she said.

He raised his eyebrows.

“Well,” she said. “I just -- science--”

Smiling, he reached out, cupping her face. “I love your passion for what you do,” he said. “It is part of what makes you so spectacular.”

“Okay, now you’re just going over the top,” she said.

“Do you wish me to stop?” he asked.

Her face brightened as she drew closer to him. “Nah,” she said, standing on her toes to brush her lips against his again. “I think you’re doing great.”

-o-

With Jane’s assurance of participation, Thor grew ever eager for his opportunity. He discovered that planning was a very insightful process. By thinking ahead, not only was he able to come up with a more definitive course of action, but he was better able to think through any possible caveats and make changes accordingly.

As it turned out, Thor was something of a perfectionist in his plans. He took great pains to account for all the details in a way he had never tried before. He made notes in his notebook, mapping out his course and making a checklist for their supplies.

In addition to foreseeing problems, he was also able to come up with superior solutions. It was remarkable how his ideas evolved and changed the more he thought about them. His initial ideas had been adequate, but by the end of his planning sessions, the entire event would be nothing short of perfection.

It was a little ridiculous, in all honesty, the amount of time and effort he was spending for one weekend of emotional bonding. He had never spent this much time planning anything, not even to be future king of Asgard. Thor suspected that reflected more poorly on who he had been, rather than who he was.

Some things were simply worth it.

-o-

Thor was calm in most times of crisis. He had a remarkably resolved presence in conflict, which was what had helped him excel in his physical training.

Yet, in the time approaching the date, he found himself growing ever more anxious. He was jittery and restless, growing listless in the evenings and distracted at work.

“Dude,” Darcy said when he burned the pancakes at breakfast. “What’s with you?”

Thor scraped the charred pancake off the pan apologetically. “I apologize,” he said. “I have been quite distracted recently.”

“Um, yeah,” Darcy said. “Both I and that badly mauled pancake are aware of that.”

“I just…,” he said, pouring more batter into the pan. “I have been thinking about this weekend.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Darcy said. “The big six month to-do.”

“I just want everything to go right,” he said, watching as the batter started to bubble.

“Why wouldn’t it go right?” Darcy asked.

“I have accounted for a number of variant possibilities,” Thor admitted. “But I keep thinking, what if more than one thing goes wrong, and what if there are miscalculations on my part that impact the outcome? What if I have failed to take into consideration Jane’s interests? What if she finds my efforts tedious?”

“Thor,” Darcy said. “The most effort a guy has ever put into a relationship with me was when I had this boyfriend who remembered to take me out for dinner after two months together.”

“That sounds nice,” Thor said, lifting the pancake and flipping it to the other side.

“He dumped me the next morning,” Darcy said.

“That’s horrible!”

“Well, I hadn’t even realized we’d been dating that long,” Darcy said. “Honestly, he was so boring that I forgot that we were together between every date.

Thor poked at the pancake with consternation, not sure what to say.

“Which is sort of my point,” Darcy said. “You and Jane, you’re making the effort. Isn’t that half the battle?”

Thor flipped the pancake once more before carrying it on the spatula to put it on Darcy’s plate. He paused, thoughtful. “You make it sound rather easy.”

Darcy liberally poured syrup over the pancakes. “Easy?” she asked. “That’s the hard stuff. Which is why it’s for you and for Jane.”

“You think it’ll go okay, then?” Thor asked.

Cutting into her pancake, Darcy skewered it with her fork. “If anyone has a chance,” she said. “It’s a super smart scientist and a golden haired demigod.”

“So that’s a yes?” Thor asked.

“Yes!” Darcy said. “Now keep it coming with the pancakes!”

Thor was smiling as he turned back to the stove.

-o-

Thor could still remember it like yesterday. The day of his coronation. Standing behind the doors, just him and Loki. He had been nervous, then, a tight feeling in the pit of his stomach that he could not quite neutralize with familiar joking. Loki had spoken in love and affection, as sincere as his brother ever was. It had been the only boost he needed to approach the crowd with confidence.

Indeed, he had not wavered that day. He had swallowed back his trepidation and cast himself before his people with nothing reserved. He could still hear his own voice, reverberating over the crowds: _I swear_!

It had been the most important day of Thor’s life.

And yet somehow, his nerves were far worse this day.

He found he could not sleep, turning restless in the bed the day before their trip. At an early hour, he rose to ready himself, listlessly double checking their itinerary and sorting through their supplies again for the countless time. Anxious, he glanced at the door, waiting for Jane to rise. He made a pot of coffee to occupy himself, but the caffeine did nothing to settle his nerves.

When Jane finally did arrive, somewhat sleepy-eyed, he did his best not to appear overly eager.

Still, as he half accosted her with questions about her well-being and readiness, she gave him a skeptical look. “Are you seriously this nervous?” she asked.

He laughed, too loud and too forced. “No, of course not!”

She looked wholly unconvinced.

Sheepish, he pursed his lips. “Perhaps a little,” he relented. “But mostly, I am ready. How do you fare?”

She took a deep breath, shrugging. “I guess I’m as ready as I’m going to be,” she said. “Unless you’re willing to let me check the data--”

It was his turn to level a look at her.

Holding up her hand, she nodded. “I had to try.”

He came forward, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “I would expect no less.”

“So just a peek?” she asked.

Shaking his head, he smiled at her fondly. “You have five minutes while I load up the car.”

She clapped her hands. “Thank you!”

“I will afford you five minutes for science,” he said. “But you have promised the rest of the weekend to me.”

With a solemn nod, she said, “You have my word.”

He bent over, kissing her. “And that is all I need.”

-o-

True to her word, Jane was ready when Thor had the car packed.

Of course, she didn’t realize that he took extra time that he did not need, that he spent time leaned over the trunk, rearranging their belongings fruitlessly just to give her ten minutes instead of five.

She didn’t realize, of course.

But her smile was thanks enough.

“Great,” she said, climbing into the passenger’s seat and reaching for her belt buckle. “So are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“Well, that wouldn’t be a surprise,” he said.

“I already know we’re going hiking,” she said. “I mean, you told me explicitly to wear hiking boots.”

He gave her a sideways glance as he started up the car. “Perhaps that was a trick.”

“You’re not very good at deception,” she countered.

“I have convinced an entire town that my name is Donald Blake but only use a nickname of Thor,” he said. “My entire life here is a deception.”

“That doesn’t count!” Jane said.

“You think me so simple?” Thor asked.

“No,” she replied without missing a beat. “I think you’re too good.”

“Well, then,” he said, starting to pull the car away from the curb. He grinned at her. “All the more reason to trust me.”

-o-

The drive was pleasant, with Jane sipping her coffee and innocuous music on the radio. The day was already bright and clear, with no sign of anything to impede their progress. When Thor pulled off at Chaco Culture National Historical Park, she made a small, triumphant sound. “I knew it was hiking,” she said.

Thor pulled into a parking spot. “I never disagreed that there was hiking involved.”

“Well, what else would we do?” Jane asked.

Putting the car in park, Thor shrugged. “I guess you will have to find out.”

-o-

Thor spoke with confidence, but the truth was that he was growing more anxious with each passing moment. While it was true that he had not planned this trip solely around hiking, he was beginning to fear that it could be reduced to such simplistic terms. Worse still, what if his ambiguity only made her want too much in anticipation? What if the mystery only resulted in a letdown?

What if he planned so much, just to fail?

In so many regards, it was a miracle Thor had lived so many years and screwed up as little as he had. Maybe it was just good luck or the good graces of his parents. Perhaps he had been nothing but a spoiled brat, in long need of discipline that his aging father had been reluctant to dole out.

Needless to say, Thor would have made a horrible king. Too brash by one account but then too afraid by another. If Thor couldn’t even plan a six month anniversary, then how would he have ever expected himself to lead an entire planet? Let alone the most powerful planet of all the realms?

That was beside the point, of course. Thor was no longer in line for the throne. The throne would never be his, and in some ways, that was a relief. He had wanted it more than anything, but he could see now just how ill-prepared he had been. He could not be trusted with much until he could be successful with little.

Like a six month anniversary.

Thor had no hopes of regaining his title.

But he could hope for a successful weekend -- and a happy girlfriend.

Two things that mattered more than anything else in this newfound life of his.

-o-

After unloading their supplies, Thor checked his map and cross referenced their itinerary once again. He looked toward Jane, who was buckling on her own backpack.

“What do you have in here?” she asked, adjusting the straps with a grimace.

“Is it too heavy?” Thor asked.

“No, no,” Jane said. “I mean, I don’t think so.”

“I can take some of your supplies in my own,” Thor offered.

“I’m just, I don’t know, surprised,” Jane said. “This is clearly going to be quite a hike.”

Thor rolled his eyes. “I told you. This is going to be more than a hike.”

“Right, right,” Jane said. “I keep forgetting.”

“Very well, then,” Thor said. “It is my task to make sure you remember.”

She regarded him playfully. “You think you’re up to that?”

“There is but one way to find out,” he returned with a wink. “How about you? Are you ready?”

“For a hike?” Jane asked coyly. She gestured. “After you.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, but could not quite contain his smile. “Be sure to keep up.”

-o-

In his research, Thor had discovered that Chaco Culture National Historical Park had many sites to see. Although the idea of a backcountry trail had been appealing, he ultimately decided that well tread paths may be more lenient, since Jane was more inclined toward lab work than outdoor activity. Moreover, the more he read about the park, the more he concluded that the sites had inherent value as one of the few remaining places that preserved ancient human culture.

On Asgard, he would have turned a blind eye to such things. He had struggled through history for the sake of his title, and had had little interest in the educational trips his mother had arranged for Loki and himself. Thor had always thought the past to be immaterial. What had gone before was done and over; Thor had been more focused on the here and now.

At great cost, most certainly. 

Now he could see the power of the past, and the lessons it could teach. More than that, he found a respect for the things that came before, as building blocks to establish what the future will be. It was only when things were stripped down to their barest elements that truth could be revealed.

The past was the strongest connection with the future.

With his self-guided tour map in hand, he started them on the first trail readily, Jane just a step behind. “I mean,” she said. “Would this be a bad time to say that I don’t even like hiking that much?”

Thor looked back at her with a bemused glare. “Then you are quite fortunate that this is much more than hiking.”

“I know, I know,” Jane said. “You have a plan.”

Thor slowed slightly, keeping his pace with hers. “Did you not enjoy the outdoors much as a child?”

“As a child?” she asked. “I mean, sure. I like the outdoors now for that matter. But as a kid, I was always climbing trees and finding the highest hill. Anything to get me closer to the stars.”

“These trees and hills,” Thor said. “Were they all in your yard?”

“No, not at all,” Jane said. “Sometimes I would take this shortcut through the forest on the way home from school and try to get lost just so I could stay out after dark with a valid excuse.”

“So, you would say that these exploits, they involved walking?” Thor asked pointedly. “Hiking even?”

She sighed, rolling her eyes. “Okay, you made your point.”

Thor looked out at the trail. “When the destination is worthwhile, we are often willing to endure anything to get there.”

“What about you?” Jane asked after several paces.

Thor glanced at her. “What about me?”

“Did you hike as a kid?” she asked. “I mean, I assume they had hiking on Asgard.”

Thor chuckled. “I spent as much time outside as possible,” he said. “I found it so frustrating to be stuck inside the palace.”

“Oh, poor little Thor, stuck in a _palace_ ,” she joked.

“It was quite limiting!” Thor replied. “And my mother was so strict about where we could and could not run. There were rules about everything, the things we could and could not touch.”

“And I’m sure you complied perfectly,” Jane said.

“In my defense, I was never disobedient without cause,” Thor said. “I just never had very good cause, I’m afraid.”

She laughed. “It’s hard to imagine you that way.”

“I was a very brash child,” Thor admitted.

“Well, you have grown up,” Jane said.

Thor nodded, a little somber.

She nudged him. “So what was your favorite thing to do outside?”

“Oh, I enjoyed it all,” Thor said. “I liked to play hide and seek in the forests. There were some beaches that stretched farther than the eye could see, with crystal blue waters that were so clear that you could see down for miles. I, too, climbed trees and swung from the branches.”

“That sounds dangerous,” Jane said.

“The more danger, the better,” Thor said. “I told you, I was brash.”

“So you say,” Jane said.

“But you know the thing I loved most?” he asked. “The storms. When it rained, no matter where I was, I would find my way outside, even if just on my balcony. I craved the rain, and the lightning and thunder mesmerized me. It was like the sky was fighting its own epic battle, warring against itself for the inherent value of the fight in its own right.”

Jane was watching him, curious now. “That makes sense,” she said after a moment. “For the god of thunder.”

“Storms are violent and powerful,” Thor said. “But they are contained and within their own logic. They rage and fight, but always end. If you listen close, you can hear the heavens conversing, as if in a secret language lost to mortals many ages ago.”

He looked down at Jane, feeling his cheeks redden.

“At least, that was what I believed as a child,” he said.

She nodded, walking a few more steps. “When I was little, I thought the stars were beacons, set out by aliens in far off lands, inviting people to come visit. I was convinced we could reach them all, or at least put out a beacon of our own, bright enough to shine throughout the universe.”

“That is not so far off,” Thor said. “Many of the stars do represent planets with sentient life.”

“And who knows,” Jane said, “maybe the storms do have a language we just haven’t figured out yet.”

Thor continued walking, stepping over a rut in the ground. “Somehow I find that unlikely.”

“All things are unlikely,” Jane said. “Until we prove them to be true.”

He looked at her, smile widening once more. “Then let me prove this to you,” he said.

She frowned. “Prove what?”

Taking her hand, he quickened their pace. “That this is going to be so much more than a _hike_ for you.”

-o-

Thor had not been certain, given that Jane was an astronomer, that ancient sites would hold much interest to her. However, from growing up with Loki, he had come to understand that an innate curiosity was just what it sounded like. Although Loki had had preferences in his studies, he had devoured all academic pursuits with reckless abandon. During his time with Jane, he had seen many similarities in her, so he could only hope that his conclusion had been valid.

Seeing her face, though, was all it took.

“Seriously,” she said, marveling as they walked through the ruins of the ancient great house at Una Vida. “Can you imagine their structural instincts to be able to do this? I mean, we pay architects tens of thousands of dollars, and these people were able to do it without any delineation of advance mathematics. It’s so impressive.”

Thor nods, trying to envision what life must have been like; where would the people have sat and how would they have interacted? “It does provide insight into the way they lived and thought,” he agreed. He pointed to a row of windows. “They must have placed those so sun would light the room in the afternoon. It would make a wonderful spot for an evening meal.”

Jane cocked her head. “You’re right,” she agreed. “And, I mean the scale of this place. It’s not a single family dwelling.”

“So they were social people,” Thor concluded.

“I’m sure there has been a lot of research,” Jane said. “We’ll have to stop by the information center and pick up some brochures. I can’t believe we didn’t stop there first!”

“There was an element of surprise!” Thor said.

“But I need to know!” Jane exclaimed.

“You can form your own conclusions first,” he said.

“I’m not an archeologist or even an anthropologist,” she said. “Although I have found the star charts from ancient Mediterranean cultures to be fascinating.”

Thor laughed. “You do not always need to be right,” he said. “Sometimes you just need to be imaginative.”

“That’s called storytelling,” she said. “Not science.”

“But can you not use your science to tell stories?” he said. “Is not the stories what makes the science worthwhile? When we look up at the stars, you do not just ask me about their names and their planets. You want to know about the people. Your equations are not about numbers, but about connecting two places in the universe.”

She chewed her lip. “I hadn’t thought of it like that,” she said. “Science nerds were never big on the social scene.”

“That point is not important,” Thor said. He gestured out to the great house again. “Look at it. Imagine how it might have been.”

Jane followed his gaze, eying the space thoughtfully for a moment. “It has good flow,” she said. “Modern design is all about open concepts, but if you think about it practically, more walls would mean more materials and time. But, I mean, it’s impossible to say--”

Thor shook his head. “Why are they gathering?”

Chewing her lip for a moment, she narrowed her gaze. “Rites of passage, maybe?” she said. “Important holidays, maybe? Celebrations?”

“Celebrations,” Thor said. “What are they celebrating?”

“Uh, achievement,” Jane continued. “I mean, their primary goal would be survival, so if they were hunters, they might celebrate a good hunt.”

“Ah, yes,” Thor said. “I often feasted in the aftermath of a grand hunt.”

“Really?” Jane said. She looked at him with a wrinkled nose. “On a civilized planet, you still got together to have a few beers because you killed some poor defenseless animal?”

Thor scoffed. “Poor defenseless animal?” he asked. “Have you not seen the bilgesnipe? Do you not know what damage they do to the ecosystem in the Northern Shores?”

Jane shrugged.

Thor rolled his eyes. “It was also a means of population control,” he said with a tinge of exasperation. “And bilgesnipe are massive, hideous creatures.”

“Are you sure you just didn’t want a few beers?” Jane asked.

“It was more than a few beers,” Thor said. “When you talk about celebration, I’m not sure you even know the full context of what that word implies.”

“Oh, whatever, Mr. I-Came-From-A-Powerful-Ancient-Planet-of-Perfection,” she said.

He nudged her. “You miss the point.”

“That you were an elitist snob who I probably wouldn’t have liked,” she joked.

“That we are more than we leave behind,” he said. “Your work is great and important, Jane. And someday it may change the fate of your planet and affect the destiny of all the realms, but when you are gone, they will be your relics. People will try to understand you and to reduce you to a series of equations and important events, but you are more than that.”

He paused, reaching out to touch her cheek, fingers lingering in her hair.

“I want you to know that no matter what the relics of my life may entail, I hope people can see my love for you above all else,” he said. “I yearn for no other legacy than that.”

She blinked, a little taken aback by his candor. Then she giggled nervously. “Sort of setting the bar kind of low there.”

“No,” he said. “It is the highest I have ever aimed for.”

With that, he kissed her, and she sighed. “Well, then,” she murmured. “Good job with that.”

-o-

After the first site, Jane was eager to continue on, so Thor was glad he had planned a loop around all the major points of interest in the park. Una Vida had just been the start, and although Pueblo Bonito was the most crowded of the attractions and the most intact, Jane took special interest in the Petroglyph Trail.

Thor countered her speculations, and together they theorized a history for these people and the lives they must have lived. They talked of hunters on long quests; village dwellers battening down the hatches against a violent storm. They wondered about the clarity of the night sky, which offered all the same wonder even so many years in the past.

They told stories, some silly and some serious, and it occurred to Thor they weren’t just telling the stories of what had been, but what could be. They were telling their own story, just as much as they were envisioning the tales of those who had come before.

“It’s funny,” Jane reflected, running her hand along one of the ancient rocks. “How this looks so vacant now, and how full of life it must have been.”

“That is the way time works,” Thor said. “We can reduce a lifetime into a single moment.”

She looked at him. “Is that how you feel sometimes?” she asked. “When you think of Asgard?”

“I have no relics of home,” he confessed. “Except one.”

“The hammer,” she said.

Swallowing, he looked down. “It tells the story well enough,” he said. “The shame.”

She reached out, placing a hand upon his arm. “You know what’s funny about relics?” she asked.

He glanced up at her.

“You can study and you can make logical conclusions, but it’s all just speculation,” she said. “The past is behind us. We can learn from it, but we can never go back. And the thing I believe -- the thing I’ve _always_ believed -- is that the best is yet to come.”

A smile pulled at his mouth. “Is that so?”

She nodded. “Totally.”

“Well,” Thor said, inclining his head. “You are the scientist, so who am I to argue?”

Her fingers squeezed, and she returned his smile. “Now,” she said. “What’s next on our itinerary?”

-o-

After completing their hike of the park, Thor took Jane to the campground. Though she offered to help set up, he insisted on doing it alone while letting her peruse the pamphlets she had gathered from the visitor center.

“I had no idea,” Jane said in disbelief as she turned to the next pamphlet. “The amount of research on these people…”

“Maybe you should have studied anthropology after all,” Thor quipped while erecting a tent post.

“Ha,” she said. “Not even.”

She paused, watching him for a moment while he levered the tent into an upright position. Her gaze turned upward.

“But they would have had a hell of a view,” she said.

“Ah,” Thor said. “So it all comes back to the stars.”

She blushed, looking at him. “I suppose it always does, doesn’t it?”

With the tent in place, Thor moved to anchor it to the ground. “It is easy to think them to be simple,” he said. “On Asgard, we take it upon ourselves to maintain the well-being of all the realms, as though they are incapable of doing it for themselves.”

“To be fair, Earth is kind of a mess,” Jane said.

“I do not doubt the value of keeping peace among the planets,” Thor said. “Nor would I disparage the achievements of Asgard, for even all of what I have told you does not do it justice. But we think of simple as _lesser_. It becomes easy to discredit entire civilizations without realizing what they have to teach us.”

“Well, mutual respect and understanding,” she said. “That is the ideal model for interplanetary exploration.”

“We don’t explore on Asgard,” he said. “We don’t make startling discoveries. Time moves slowly; things evolve at what you would call a _snail’s pace._ Yet with all the vast time we enjoy, we miss so much. Think of the people who lived here so many centuries ago. You said it yourself; they had an innate understanding of architecture.”

She nodded. “Well, yeah, but you have to wonder if the poorly designed houses are just the ones that fell down. Maybe they just got lucky with a few of them.”

“Luck notwithstanding,” Thor said. “Look at the lives they must have created for themselves. Maybe they knew things we could never hope to understand. The simple calls of nature or the language of the storm.”

“Sometimes it doesn’t take a bunch of degrees,” Jane agreed. “I mean, in science we don’t talk a lot about faith, but sometimes I think that’s all it is. Faith that what we think we know is real. We have to believe it before we can prove it.”

Thor stopped his work to look at her fully. “On this planet, I sometimes think I live by faith.”

“Sometimes?” Jane asked.

“But then I see you,” Thor said. “And I have no more doubts.”

She laughed.

He frowned. “Was it something I said?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed. “It’s everything! It’s everything you said!”

Thor tilted his head.

“If I had any doubts that you weren’t actually who you said you were; I’d have to change my mind now.”

“I’m sorry?”

“No one talks like that,” Jane said. “Not in real life. Not outside movies. But you--”

She shook her head, laughing again.

“You make me want to believe,” she said finally. “I know you say that I’ve done so much for you, but you should know you’ve done just as much for me.”

He crossed over to Jane, settling down on the blanket next to her. “I would have to argue against that.”

“And you’d lose,” she said, shifting closer to him. “I’m the scientist, remember?”

He nodded. “And I apparently am the laugh-worthy romantic.”

She punched his arm. “I laugh because you make me want to believe.”

“In what?” he asked balefully.

Jane rested her head against his shoulder, snuggling close. “Everything.”

-o-

In their time at the park, Jane seemed quite content.

But Thor was not done yet.

“Wait,” Jane said. “There’s more?”

“I told you it was more than a hike,” he said.

Her face brightened, and she shook her head. “You’re being smug now.”

He tugged her hand. “I have good reason,” he said. “Just wait and see.”

-o-

Chaco Culture National Park was regarded as one of the few places to see the ancient ruins from the early inhabitants of the land in the Southwest. In this, it was of particular academic curiosity to a great many people. Thor had found all this fascinating when he decided on this as a destination.

None of it, however, was the reason he had chosen this particular park.

No, he had chosen it because when the sun went down, it offered nearly unimpeded views of the sky.

The park had gone to great pains to minimize all lighting in the area, making it a designated dark spot, which made seeing the stars even easier. To further capitalize on the natural good view, the park had erected a fully functional observatory, which was open to the public.

Thor knew it was not the refined equipment Jane used in her lab, but he did hope that the wide open views would inspire her in the difference.

She laughed when she saw the sign. “You’re kidding me, right?”

Thor stepped next to her, a bit concerned. “I wasn’t sure if it would be too much like your day job--”

“You have _got_ to be kidding me,” she said again, even more emphatic than before.

“Is that bad?” he asked.

She turned toward him, half shoving him. “You didn’t just give me a hike or historical ruins or a campsite,” she said. “You gave me _the stars_.”

“So that’s good?” Thor asked, almost daring to feel optimistic.

This time she did shove him. “It’s not good,” she said. “It’s perfect.”

He let out his breath in relief.

“But you know what this means, right?” she asked. “That we’re going to be in here until they kick us out?”

Thor held out his arm, to lead her forward. “I would expect no less.”

-o-

At the observatory, Jane did not wait for a tour. She needed no introductions or guidance. She moved from telescope to telescope, expertly aligning each one to look at different points in the night sky. Pulling on Thor’s hand, she pressed him to each one as she started to explain the constellations and the planets and everything beyond.

He had listened to her before on these things. She had never needed a telescope or an observatory to convey her wonder. But this time, Thor turned the telescope too, focusing on different objects in the night sky and asking her what she called them.

She told him all she knew, but then she told him of the things she’d once thought. She talked of charting the stars, and naming each one for herself. She told stories of ancient warriors emblazoned in the heavens, and how she’d believed she could pull them down to do her bidding as a child.

“Maybe they’re more real than I thought,” she said. “I mean, Thor and Odin and Loki -- that’s all legend -- and yet here you are. Fallen from the sky, just like I’d dreamed.”

Thor smiled. “I would hope you never planned on hitting them with your car as a child.”

She blushed with a small laugh. “I suppose I never considered them _actually_ falling,” she said. “I mean, it sounds nice to have a god in your spare room, but you never think it’s going to happen.”

Thor looked through the telescope again. “And if these other gods -- if Zeus and Hades and all the rest -- were real, what do you think they would do?”

“Well, given what I know of Greek mythology, they probably wouldn’t settle happily in Puente Antiguo and work construction,” she said. “They were a bit violent.”

“And the legends of me?” Thor pressed.

Jane paused, somewhat thoughtful. “I never thought about it,” she said.

“We came to this planet in the name of war, but not against you,” Thor said. “We are a people who pride ourselves as warriors.”

“Yeah, a god wielding a massive hammer to destroy things usually doesn’t come across as soft and fuzzy,” Jane agreed. “But you changed.”

“Probably because you hit me with the car,” Thor joked.

She made a face, adjusting the scope again for a new view. “If that’s what you have to tell yourself.”

Thor nodded upward. “I didn’t realize I had such competition.”

“What?” Jane asked coyly. “You think I’d fall for any waxen haired god that fell from the sky?”

“I hadn’t considered that until now,” Thor admitted wryly.

“Well, lucky for you, they all seem to be right where they belong,” she said, looking through the lens again.

She straightened, letting Thor take a look. “Indeed,” Thor said, looking at the stars again. “So much more the loss for them.”

-o-

They were the last ones there, and Jane even managed to stay late, talking to one of the guides as he shut down the observatory for the night. It was quite late when they made their way back to the campsite, but Jane showed no signs of being tired.

Thor prepared a fire, and made them a light meal while Jane talked excitedly. She barely slowed enough to eat, but when Thor made the s’mores, she paused long enough to enjoy the sticky bites.

“I haven’t even helped with anything,” she said, licking her fingers while Thor ate one of his own. “I am probably the worst girlfriend ever.”

“I require nothing but your company,” Thor said.

“Um, you literally planned the most amazing trip in the world,” Jane said.

“No, the most amazing trip would have been to the far north,” he said. “I have read that the views of the sky from Canada or Scandinavia are most impressive.”

“Well, with their proximity to the poles, of course--”

“Sadly, I work construction,” Thor said. “I do not have that much money. Nor did I think I could convince you to make a plane trip when convincing you to take a weekend off was so much work.”

“That’s a fair point,” she said, somewhat sheepish.

“But there is always next year,” Thor told her, producing another s’more and handing it to Jane.

She grinned. “Something to look forward to.”

Thor put another marshmallow on a stick. “Undoubtedly.”

-o-

They ate until the marshmallows were gone, and as the fire died down, Thor drew close to Jane. In the simmering flames, he followed her gaze. “What would you do?” he asked. “If you could go between the stars, anywhere at all.”

She let out a breath. “I wouldn’t even know where to start,” she said. “If I could even go to one or two of the places you’ve told me about, I’m sure I’d never want to leave. You make it sound like Earth is one of the more primitive planets.”

“Of the nine realms, perhaps,” Thor said. “But there are many worlds beyond that.”

“Just think,” Jane said, shaking her head. “The things I could learn. I mean, I’d have to get a baseline of vocabulary to make any of it possible, but I have to think a lot of the scientific principles are universal. So to see how other civilizations have done it, to see where our science can get us someday -- I couldn’t even imagine.”

Thor could.

Thor had.

And he had appreciated so little; the gifts of his birth, the privilege of his title. Things Jane would have used to better herself; to better her people; to better the galaxy.

Thor, on the other hand, had squandered it so carelessly.

“Someday I hope you get to see,” he said.

She looked at him. “Someday,” she agreed. “I’m pretty happy where I am for now.”

“Good,” he said. “That makes two of us.”

-o-

When the fire went out, they were the last ones still awake for what seems like miles. “You should sleep,” Thor said.

She sighed, head tucked against the crook of his neck. “Mm,” she murmured. “I don’t want to move.”

He jostled her slightly. “You need your sleep,” he said. “You will feel better for it in the morning.”

“But I’m happy,” she said into his chest. “I’m happy here.”

His stomach fluttered, his chest tightening. “This is just one night,” he said. “Hopefully with many more to come.”

She craned her head up. “But not like this.”

He kissed her forehead. “Some better,” he promised. “Come. The sleeping bag is all set up.”

Moaning, she allowed him to push her into a standing position. She shuffled toward the tent, pausing at the flap. “What about you?”

“I will sleep here,” he said. “I have often spent the night in the open.”

Jane looked toward the tent. “You could stay in here,” she said, eyes on him again. “With me.”

He looked at her, and then looked at the tent.

She pulled her arms across her chest. “It’d be warmer.”

“Is that what you wish?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “I wish it very much.”

-o-

It was a tight fit inside the tent, but Thor studiously pulled back the top layer of the sleeping back and helped Jane inside. When she was lying, he moved to cover her again, but she put her hand on his to stop him.

Their eyes met, and Jane inched away, making room for him inside.

Thor hesitated. They had slept side by side before, a few times even on the couch in each other’s arms. But this intimacy was different. Thor had taken no liberties in the physical part of their relationship, for fear of overstepping his bounds.

But Jane was inviting him.

Thor would never tell her no.

Kicking his boots off, he eased in beside her, pulling the covers up over both of them. Almost instantly, she rolled toward him, burrowing against him as she curled up in a ball. He settled an arm across her, drawing her closer as she let out a breath and settled herself down.

“See,” she whispered without opening her eyes. “It’s so much warmer.”

He looked at her, slipping into sleep, and could only agree.

-o-

Thor woke with the sun, but he did not move. Jane was still tucked against him, her breathing deep and slow in sleep. He watched her, reaching a hand up to gently smooth the hair back from her face.

She thought he had given her so much this weekend.

In the past year and a half, she had given him so much more.

-o-

He was dozing when Jane finally stirred several hours later. He smiled as she opened her eyes, blinking blearily up at him.

“Hey,” she said. “Have you been watching me sleep this whole time?”

“Not the whole time,” Thor said.

“But some of it,” Jane concluded quizzically.

“Is that weird?” Thor asked.

“Well,” Jane replied. “It’s probably not normal. But given the nature of our relationship, I suppose it’s not the strangest thing.”

He made a mental note of that, though he doubted he could stop himself from watching her, if given the chance. But he could learn a bit more discretion.

Still, he smiled. “So,” he said. “Was I right?”

Jane sat up a little. “About what?”

“About this being more than a hike,” he said.

She rolled her eyes, groaning. “I’m never going to live that down!”

“I can stop joking,” Thor assured her. “I’m just relieved you enjoyed it.”

Jane groped for her shoes. “You had doubts?”

“I have never planned such an elaborate date before,” Thor admitted. “I wanted to be sure I got it right.”

“Well, believe me,” she said. “You got it right. You got it very, very right.”

“I hope you see it was more than a gesture,” Thor said. “I want you to see this weekend as a sign of my commitment, not only to this relationship, but to you.”

She looked at him. “I’ve never doubted that, Thor.”

“I tried to think of the thing you wanted most,” he said. “And if I could, I would give you the stars. If I still had access to the Rainbow Bridge, I would take you to Asgard and every other place you wanted. But since I am unable to do that, all I can give you is a promise. That I will stay with you, by your side in all ways, until you claim the stars for yourself.”

She leaned over, pulling him to her. She kissed him. “Damn it,” she said. “How do you manage to be so _good_?”

He smiled. “I have some pretty good inspiration.”

“Ugh,” she said. “I’m going to have to kiss you, just to shut you up.”

“Agreed,” Thor said as she yanked him to her again. “That might be the only possible solution.”

-o-

They were in no particular rush, so they adopted a leisurely pace while cleaning up their campsite. Jane insisted on driving them home, and Thor saw no reason to fight her on that. Instead, he finished loading up the car and climbed into the passenger seat, turning on the radio as Jane pulled them out of the parking lot.

“So, six months,” Jane said. “Sort of seems like it’s been longer.”

“It does feel quite natural,” Thor said.

“With Donald, I swear, every month felt like an accomplishment,” Jane said, shaking her head. She looked at him. “What was your longest relationship on Asgard?”

“I had no serious courtships,” Thor reminded her.

“Still,” Jane said. “I find it hard to believe you didn’t have _anyone_ you thought about.”

Thor drew a breath, settling back thoughtfully. “I did consider it, a decade before I was banished.”

“Yeah?” Jane asked. “What was her name?”

“Katrin,” Thor said. “She was from a noble family, and her father provided textiles for an addition to my father’s palace when I was coming of age.”

“Ah,” Jane said, winking at him. “So you two flirted while your dads worked.”

“We did spend quite some time together,” Thor said. “I was just barely old enough to even consider the idea of courtship, so I imagine I found the idea tempting.”

“What happened?” Jane asked.

“Loki persuaded me that my feelings were too ill-defined,” he said. “He suggested I go for an extended hunting season and see if I still felt the same upon my return.”

Jane nodded eyes on the road. “Young love is fickle.”

“Plus, she had moved on to my friend Fandral,” Thor said.

“Well, that would do it,” Jane said. “How long were you two, almost, you know?”

“Not long,” Thor said. “Two years, give or take.”

Jane’s eyes bugged a little, and her jaw dropped. “Two years? I only made it nine months with Donald.”

“Well, time had a very different meaning on Asgard,” Thor said.

“But you took two years to decided _not_ to date someone,” Jane said. “This must seem so silly to you -- a six month anniversary.”

“You forget,” Thor reminded her. “It took me two years to decide _not_ to date her. It took me far less than that to decide there would never be anyone else for me in this world but you. Six months matters, Jane. It matters very much.”

She gave him a sideways glance. “Are all of your people like this?”

“Like what?”

“Unendingly perfect,” she said. “I mean, you’re polite. You’re thoughtful. You’re respectful. You listen to me; you go out of your way to make me happy. You put your needs second, like, _all_ the time. I mean, six months and we’ve barely even had a fight. Is that just how your people are?”

“Not particularly,” Thor said. “Nor can I say that it is something I was well known for back on Asgard. Surely you remember how I acted when I first arrived.”

“Okay, yeah,” Jane said. “You were a bit...presumptuous.”

“And arrogant and self-entitled,” Thor reminded her.

“And what, it’s all gone now?” Jane asked.

Thor laughed slightly. “I believe I left those things back in the desert with the hammer,” he said. “I was sent here to learn humility. I am brash and easily mistaken, but I do learn, even if it is the hard way.”

Jane nodded keeping her eyes glued on the road for several long moments. Her eyes darted to Thor, serious. “You know you don’t owe me anything, right?” she asked. “That there is no debt to pay.”

“You think my affection to be born of obligation?” Thor asked.

“I’m just saying, you’re allowed to disagree with me sometimes,” she said. “We’re allowed to fight. You’re allowed to tell me I’m wrong; you’re allowed to be selfish. If you want to know what it is to be human, that’s part of it.”

Thor raised his eyebrows. “You wish me to be petty and pick fights with you?”

“Yes!” Jane said. Then she shrugged. “I mean, I want you to know that’s okay. If you screw up a little, it’s okay. There’s give and take in relationships, and this whole thing isn’t going to end in disaster if you do something a little wrong.”

It was a subtle shift in the conversation, but Thor recognized it well. There was no doubt that Jane was grateful for his devotion, but she could not quite grasp the depth of his dedication. Indeed, perhaps he was too fond too quickly when it came to Jane Foster. But her concern was not for herself, it was for him. She wanted him to be happy, just as much as he wanted her to be happy.

“It has only been six months, Jane,” he said. “I’m sure there will be plenty of time for me to get many things wrong in the coming months and years.”

She glanced at him again, smile just starting to widen. “Months and years huh?”

Thor shrugged. “Assuming you tolerate me that long.”

Looking at the road ahead, she continued to smile. “I guess we’ll see what happens.”

Thor grinned, because he certainly hoped so.

-o-

Jane stopped for lunch, and when she saw a Dairy Queen, she stopped for that as well, insisting that he buy the biggest Blizzard they had available.

“This is unnecessary,” Thor said, spooning a bite of Oreo ice cream into his mouth.

“Um, you gave me a romantic weekend,” Jane said, nibbling on her Dilly Bar. “I literally bought you an iTunes gift card.”

“Which I will make good use of,” Thor reminded her. “Darcy has told me of several more bands she thinks I should listen to.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t take all your musical advice from Darcy,” Jane noted.

“I have asked you for input,” Thor said with another generous bite. “But you say that you are often too focused for music.”

“Well, I mean, yeah,” Jane said. “But I think Darcy steals songs from your account.”

“That would be unethical,” Thor said.

“Exactly,” Jane said. “And I didn’t give her an iTunes gift card. I gave it to you. The more times I say that out loud, the more ridiculous I feel.”

“I like the gift card,” he assured her.

“But it’s not even thoughtful,” Jane said. “I mean, you come at me with an I-can’t-give-you-the-stars-but-I’ll-be-here-when-you-find-them-for-yourself. That’s brilliant. Okay, it’s like you walked off the set of a romantic comedy and straight into my life. And I gave you a _gift card_.”

“Would it help if I purchased music that I knew you didn’t like?” Thor asked. “Perhaps something with loud, persistent base.”

“There you go,” Jane said. “That’s perfect. I would hate that.”

Thor smiled. “Sometimes I find relationships confusing.”

Jane took a quick bite as a piece of her ice cream started to fall. “Welcome to my world.”

“Besides,” Thor said, licking his spoon. “You have also given me the honor of your presence for an entire weekend. And I know how valuable your time is.”

“Yeah, I’m not thinking about my research,” Jane said. “Alone. With Darcy.”

“She is quite capable,” Thor reminded her.

Jane looked pained. “It’s just _really_ important,” she said.

“Hence why your time was such a precious gift to me,” Thor said. “Do not think I take it for granted.”

She rolled her eyes, tipping the stick of her Dilly Bar to take a bite off. “Still,” she said. “A gift card.”

“I still do not see what the problem is.”

“Of course you don’t,” she said with a small laugh. “And that’s another reason why you’re probably the best boyfriend ever.”

Thor beamed at her. “I will gladly accept that compliment.”

“Though, to be fair, you’re being compared to Donald Blake,” Jane said.

“You have said he was quite charming, if somewhat egocentric,” Thor said. “Sometimes such things simply need time to be broken.”

“Uh, yeah, no,” Jane said. “You want to know what he gave me for our six month anniversary?”

“Flowers?” Thor asked.

Jane nodded. “And a gift card.”

Thor laughed. “The reviled gift card. Perhaps I should be insulted, then?”

“No, no,” Jane said, shaking her head quickly. “I just -- I’m bad at this stuff.”

“Then you should take comfort,” Thor said. “That I have nothing to compare it against.”

“So you’re a happy boyfriend because you don’t know any better?” Jane asked.

“I didn’t mean--”

Jane held up her hand. “I’ll take it,” she said. “Trust me, I will definitely take it.”

-o-

They arrived back late in the evening. While Thor unloaded the car, Jane tried not to appear hurried as she went back inside.

Of course, by the time Thor had managed to drag as much of their gear inside, Jane was already over at her workstation, grilling Darcy about what had happened in her absence.

“Seriously,” Darcy was saying. “Nothing happened. The equipment ran. There were pictures taken. The numbers got processed. I filed all the new crap and it’s--”

“But did it run the secondary process?” Jane asked, flipping through the sheets.

“Yes,” Darcy said. “Because that was step twenty-nine on the list you left me. I’m not exaggerating, Jane. Step twenty-nine.”

Jane frowned, flipping over another page. “Well, I was just being thorough.”

“Uh huh,” Darcy said. “The real question is really, how was the big weekend?”

Thor smiled, starting to clean out their cooler. “It was quite nice, thank you.”

“Do anything...special?” Darcy asked.

“Most certainly,” Thor said. “We hiked and looked at some ancient artifacts--”

“So nothing _special_ ,” Darcy interjected.

Thor cocked his head. “We did spend some time at the observatory.”

Darcy shook her head. “That’s not really the special I’m talking about…”

“That’s not any of your business,” Jane said quickly, picking up a fresh file folder.

“What’s not any of whose business?” Thor asked.

Darcy rolled her eyes. “You two are impossible,” she said. “You’re telling me that literally all you did was go off and look at the stars?”

“The park was a dark night preserve,” Thor told her. “The views were spectacular--”

“Of the stars,” Darcy concluded, as if she couldn’t quite believe it.

“Jane loves the sky,” Thor said. “I could think of nothing better to suit her.”

“So, wait,” Darcy said. “You guys needed two days to go off and _look at the sky_. Really? Like that’s not what you do _every_ single day of your lives already?”

Thor considered that. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

“It was amazing,” Jane said. “And just because you lack all scientific curiosity and culture and romance--”

“Oh, don’t even go there with romance,” Darcy said. “You two had me sit here and _watch the sky_ , so you two could go off and _watch the sky_. Am I missing something here?”

Jane put the papers down to glare at Darcy. “It was amazing, okay?”

Darcy snorted. “If you say so.”

“We assure you,” Thor said. “Your assistance is most appreciated. Perhaps you would like a meal to compensate for your efforts?”

Darcy lifted her chin. “Pancakes?”

“Anything you would like,” Thor assured her, for he was grateful to the younger woman.

“Pancakes it is,” Darcy said. “But for the record, you two are still weirdos.”

If that was meant to be an insult, Darcy wasn’t trying very hard.

For his part, however Thor wasn’t inclined to care.

-o-

By the next day, Jane was back at work hard, and Thor had plenty to do at the construction site. In many ways, nothing had changed. An anniversary was just another day, and life had inevitably resumed its course.

There was something, though, in the way Jane looked at him. Something in the way she reached for his hand without looking sometimes. The way her touch was so comfortable now.

Perhaps nothing had changed. Jane had more work than ever, and Thor spent his gift card. Darcy raved about his pancakes, and _nothing_ had changed.

In a world that seemed forever in a state of flux, however, that was the best news Thor could ask for. There was safety in routine; there was comfort in familiarity, at least on this planet.

Thor had the common sense to recognize a good thing when he had it.

He had the even better sense, he thought, to never let it go.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do not forget that a hero is defined by his or her actions in the moment. Heroes make a choice to put themselves in the way of harm for a greater good. That decision is never easy, nor does it come without consequences."

They started another project at work. Jane got her first article published regarding the quantum variations that might make interplanetary travel possible. Activity at the S.H.I.E.L.D. base increased, and Selvig stopped communicating via email.

Darcy got a boyfriend, whom she talked about constantly in great detail, sharing everything from his favorite songs to their apparently frenetic sex life.

Until, of course, Darcy broke up with her boyfriend: for being emotionally needy, too old fashioned and -- as she put it -- an idiot.

Thor took Jane on dates; he kept up his exercise. He read widely, and helped out around town. He let his hair grow out, and took to keeping it in a ponytail. He mastered new tools and new trades, and he learned rapidly. He was now fluent in Spanish as well as English, and he found it oddly satisfying to be considered smart for the first time in his life. His friends, his loved ones, his coworkers -- they all thought him great for the simple things he could do and the simpler things he was willing to do.

Greatness had been all Thor ever sought.

Of course, these days, his definition of greatness had changed.

There would be no one around who could tell him it wasn’t for the better.

-o-

Then one night, he came home to find Jane in front of the TV.

The television was often on; Darcy said she preferred background noise, and Jane was often so engrossed in her work that such things were irrelevant to her. While the channel was often set to some game show or reruns of popular sitcoms; tonight it was on the news.

More than that, Jane was seated next to Darcy, both of them transfixed on the screen.

“Is something wrong?” Thor asked, putting his keys on the table and glancing over at Jane’s abandoned workstation. It was later than normal since he had been putting in overtime hours, in an attempt to help meet their quota and avoid any penalties on his latest project at current construction project.

“The president,” Jane started and then stopped; eyes still on the screen.

“They’re going to kill the _president_ ,” Darcy clarified for her.

Thor frowned, striding closer with concern. Though politics had never been a particular interest of his on Earth, he had taken time to study the various power structures on the planet. Though presidents were not revered as kings -- nor were they as indispensable as a royal lineage -- they still commanded authority and importance. And Thor understood the inherent nature of power, even when it was granted by the populace. People in power had to retain that power; they had to appear invulnerable.

To threaten a leader so publicly was an ostentatious display of aggression.

No wonder it had even drawn Jane Foster to the couch in horrible awe.

“Who?” Thor asked, even as his eyes scanned the ticker at the bottom of the screen to start learning as much as he could.

“It’s the Mandarin,” Darcy said. “The sicko who’s been doing all those attacks lately.”

“Terrorism?” Thor asked.

“This is a different type of terrorism,” Jane said. “This is something more intelligent and more targeted--”

Suddenly the screen flashed white, and the camera angle zoomed out frantically. The anchor’s voice hitched, and the screen cut to the studio shot before the screen showed a new scene, at what appeared to be a shipping platform.

A platform under attack.

Thor leaned forward, looking carefully at the picture. “Is that--?”

A figure zoomed across into view.

“I’ll be damned,” Jane said. “Iron Man.”

“Oh,” Darcy said. “Is that War Machine?”

“I thought he preferred the name Iron Patriot now?” Thor asked.

Darcy wrinkled her nose. “That’s way less cool.”

“Over-the-top patriotic,” Jane agreed.

Thor cocked his head. “But less violent.”

“Um, are you seeing this?” Darcy asked. “He’s a superhero; superheroes have to be violent. That’s sort of how battle works.”

Thor knew this, better than either of them. He knew what it was to go into battle; he knew what it was to rally one’s courage to fight a cause because it was good, and just, and important. He could still remember, being undaunted and proud. He could remember riding in with his head held high, ever confident in his ability to _win_.

A superhero.

A prince.

A warrior.

A god.

Thor watched the fight unfold, as the Man of Iron defended the good and protected the innocent. He fought against the evil in the world, even at great threat to his own well-being.

This time, Thor was the spectator.

This time, Thor was one of the nameless masses.

This time, Thor could only watch.

While somebody else saved the day.

-o-

The news went on, late into the night. The fight itself lasted no more than a half hour, but the smoldering aftermath was full of more questions than answers. The news ran, uninterrupted, until at least the president assured the public that all was well.

Thanks to Iron Man, War Machine and assorted others, everything would be fine.

Life would go on.

-o-

Darcy slept on the couch, and even Jane retired without sitting beneath the stars. Thor got ready for bed, but found he was unable to sleep as he stared at the ceiling in his room.

It had been him, once. He had always been the first to volunteer, to ride into battle. He had been the hero for as long as he could remember.

But here, he had no such distinction.

He had no such power.

It was a hard truth that he had been forced to accept when Mjölnir refused to yield to him.

It was a hard truth even now, after all that he had built for himself. To think, if a threat faced Jane, he might not be able to stop it. Indeed, he might not even be able to save himself.

Alone in his bedroom, he chastised himself for forgetting. For all that he had gained, this was still a punishment. For all that he had accomplished, this was still a lesson in humility.

He had to learn his limitations.

He had to acknowledge them.

Because no matter what he could accomplish on this planet, he would never achieve that kind of greatness again.

-o-

The news was still fresh at work the next day. His coworkers could not stop talking about it, trading stories of fear and confidence.

“At least we know we’ve got people out there who can watch our backs,” Jose said as they stopped to eat their lunch.

Ricky snickered, taking a noisy drink from his extra-large soda. “And we think that’s enough? Some iron suit and a billionaire with a heart condition?”

“He’s a hero,” Jose said impatiently. “He risked his life.”

“Dude, I read the reports,” Ricky said. “It’s partially his fault.”

“Oh, come on,” Jose said. “If you truly think--”

“It was personal, is what I’m saying,” Ricky said.

“So they blew up Air Force One to get back at Tony Stark?” Jose asked pointedly.

“Stark knew the guy,” Ricky said. “He had a bunch of chances to stop him. Hell, half the reason Stark was there was to rescue his girlfriend.”

“Please, friends,” Thor said, unwrapping another sandwich for himself. “Do not forget that a hero is defined by his or her actions in the moment. Heroes make a choice to put themselves in the way of harm for a greater good. That decision is never easy, nor does it come without consequences.”

“You’re telling me context doesn’t matter?” Ricky asked, chewing on a fry.

“I’m saying Tony Stark saved many lives,” Thor said. “And for that, he deserves our thanks, not our criticism.”

“Exactly, man,” Jose said, nodding readily.

Ricky shook his head. “I’m just saying, what he does, in that suit,” he said. “It’s not that impressive. We could weld together some metal and go fight crime, right here, right now.”

“And yet, we do not,” Thor said, crumpling his wrapper and picking up his sandwich. “Do not forget that fact.”

-o-

The status quo returned, although with an uneasy equilibrium. The headlines were sensational for a while, but great pains were taken to establish that Earth was not without some protection. Iron Man and Captain America were lauded as humanity’s best defense against the impossible, and rumors swirled about other highly trained heroes who would fill the void if needed.

No one would say when, but the _if_ grew stronger.

S.H.I.E.L.D. stepped up its operations, and though Thor knew little of their goings on, he could sense the shift. There were more people in town, and he started to suspect one or two of his workmates. Jane scarcely had time to socialize anymore, with the readings she was getting. When Thor stole a glance at the night sky, he could just barely suppress a shudder.

Though they looked still and tranquil, Thor knew better. For in the reaches of the galaxy, in the lifeblood of all nine realms, a sinister darkness loomed. Thor had awoken the beast in Jotunheim, and he could not say with any certainty that it would not follow him here.

People dreamed of heroes; governments planned for catastrophe; Jane researched the impossible.

All Thor knew was that there was discord among the stars, and he could not predict if Earth and its heroes would be any match at all.

Therefore, Thor resolved to do the only thing he could. He stopped reading the headlines, and he no longer engaged in the small talk at work. He helped sort Jane’s papers, but he would not speculate with her.

At night, even when seated with Jane on the roof, he did not turn his head toward the sky, and he ignored the deep ache in his hand as he looked toward the horizon where Mjölnir lay idle.

These were things for other people, important people, powerful people.

Not Thor.

Never again Thor.

-o-

Despite the fact that Thor had nothing of cosmic importance to do, he found that he still had plenty to keep himself occupied. He had never been one to stay idle for long, and in a town like Puente Antiguo, it seemed there was plenty to be done.

He helped build a shed for Mrs. Edin. He housesat for Mary Ellen. He threw a birthday party for George at the hardware store. He leaned how to unclog a drain, how to ground an electrical socket and sing a baby to sleep.

When Jane forgot their dates, he brought dinner to her. When Darcy became too frustrated with Jane’s single-minded focus, he asked her about her favorite bands and took her clubbing on the weekends. He read Chaucer and discovered showtunes. He binged on television sitcoms from the 90s until he knew that Ross and Rachel were meant to be, and that Seinfeld was not a very good person indeed.

These were things that would never save the world.

Ironically, they were the things that would save Thor.

-o-

When Agent Coulson arrived again, Thor was not surprised. He sat down at Thor’s table one morning while he was enjoying a quick breakfast out. Normally, he preferred eating with Jane, but with her working so much at night, they often had differing sleep schedules.

Thor was sipping on his coffee, reading the paper when the nondescript agent sat down.

“You have made a good choice for breakfast,” Thor commented, barely glancing up. “Though if you have been working in the desert all this time, I have to wonder why you would miss out for so long.”

“Been busy,” Coulson said.

“Your friends like it here, very much,” Thor said, nodding absently at the woman who was tracking Thor these days.

Coulson didn’t look, but he also did not deny it. “I assume you saw what happened a few months ago.”

“With the president?” Thor asked. “I hope safety measures have been taken. I cannot imagine Air Force One was easily replaced.”

“We saved what mattered,” Coulson said.

“Thanks to your Iron Man,” Thor said, smiling faintly. “Is he one of yours?”

Coulson shrugged. “In a manner of speaking,” he said. “Not that he’d admit to it.”

Thor tilted his head, looking at Coulson. “Is that your choice or his?”

“It doesn’t matter, mostly,” Coulson said. “What matters is that he will do what he can when he’s needed.”

The implications were not too subtle, but Thor had no notion to indulge them at this time. Not again. After nearly _two years._ “I have told you,” he said. “I have nothing that would benefit you.”

“You may not think so,” Coulson said. “But you may not realize what it is we need.”

Thor raised his eyebrows.

Coulson sat forward, folding his hands. “We believe something is coming,” he said. “We’re reading the signs, just like Jane Foster is.”

“Then I’m not sure--”

“There are more than signs,” Coulson said. “There are risks. There are unknown variables that are too dangerous to go unchecked. You saw what happened with Iron Man. And that was a human. Just a crazy psychopath with a mindset for destruction. If something comes from the sky -- something _not_ of this world…”

Thor let out a breath, taking a sip of his coffee to hide his discomfort with the direction of the conversation.

“We just need to know what you know,” Coulson said. “We’ve been polite. We’ve kept our distance. We’ve asked _nicely_ \--”

“And I have told you,” Thor said, putting his cup down. “If I had anything of worth to offer you, I would give it freely.”

“Come on,” Coulson cajoled. “You really want me to believe that you don’t know something? That you can’t tell us more about what happened that night nearly two years ago?”

“It would not help you,” Thor said.

“You don’t know that,” Coulson said.

“You track the stars,” Thor said. “You prepare your defenses. I assure you, there is nothing more that I could possibly--”

“Donald,” Coulson interjected, saying the name with inflection. “You want to pretend you’re an M-D who works construction? Okay. You want to make believe that you’re not living on a stolen identity and living with your girlfriend? Fine. But there’s a hammer in the desert that no one can move, and you call yourself Thor. Either you’ve got one hell of a sense of humor, or I’m stupider than I look. If any of the legends are true--”

Thor shook his head. “The legends you speak of are nothing but words in a book,” he said. “My life here speaks for itself, does it not?”

Coulson closed his mouth for a moment, working his jaw. “You like it here, right? You like living with Jane? You like the small town vibe?”

Thor narrowed his eyes. “Are you threatening me?”

“To the contrary,” Coulson said. “I’m reminding you that you have something to lose here. The legends are words in a book, but your life, that’s something more, isn’t it?”

There was something to that, something horribly precarious and disconcertingly vulnerable. Thor had never been defenseless in his life on Asgard, but here, he had little to offer in terms of protection. The idea of knowledge, of sharing intelligence with those who were more capable, was at once reassuring and disquieting.

He also knew it was folly.

For Thor knew of countless things. He knew of technologies and races. He knew of medical advancements and galaxies far, far away. He knew of hundreds of threats, each more telling than the last.

Too many to quantify.

Too many to predict.

Simply too many.

S.H.I.E.L.D. would learn everything and still know nothing.

He shook his head. “You think you can build a weapon to protect yourself?” he asked. “You think you can prepare a suit of armor or an impenetrable shield to stop threats to this world?”

“If we can,” Coulson said resolutely.

“These things mean nothing,” Thor continued. “Might in battle is not determined by the strength of the weapon or even the power of the one holding it. Victory, in its truest sense, is only defined by the heart that fights and the bond by which a defense is mounted.”

Coulson watched him silently amid the clatter of the morning rush at the cafe.

“Are there threats? Of course,” Thor said. “Could I identify a few of them? Possibly. But you would find there are more threats than you could ever account for.”

“So you would have us be defenseless,” Coulson said.

“Not at all,” Thor said. “Train your men. Build up your team. Learn the nuances of the stars. Remind everyone that what they have is worth fighting for. Do not look to legends or fallen artifacts. You said it yourself; you have heroes that will heed the call when the time comes. Build on that, and you will be as well-equipped as you ever could be.”

Coulson studied him for a moment, lightly chewing the inside of his lip.

Finally, he got up. “Thank you for your time, Dr. Blake.”

“You do not wish to stay for breakfast?” Thor asked quizzically.

Coulson put on his glasses. “Another time.”

Thor nodded. “I’d say I’m looking forward to it--”

Coulson smiled faintly. “But you wouldn’t want to be a liar now,” he said. “Would you?”

-o-

Coulson was worried; S.H.I.E.L.D. was anxious. The world shifted uncomfortably in anticipation. Indeed, there had been a time when Thor would’ve been just like them: ever anxious to do something about the greater forces in the universe, even when he had no real concept of such implications.

He was the prince who had charged blindly into Jotunheim, starting a war over petty insults.

No more, however.

He had believed inaction to be less noble once, as though standing still was the direct opposite of moving forward. This was not the case, however. Sometimes standing still was the acceptance of uncertainty, the reality of humility. Thor could not strike out at what he could not see. He would not, for fear of the implications.

There was a part of him that would have thought this to be cowardice. But inaction was just as much a choice as anything else. Bravery was in knowing the right time to act.

And waiting until such a time appeared.

For some, Thor realized, that may never come.

For lowly construction workers on the planet Earth, maybe there was nothing more to do.

It was a sign of growth; Thor had to think that he was, entirely and without guilt, okay with that.

-o-

S.H.I.E.L.D.’s presence did not abate, though they did not approach Thor again. He could feel them watching him, perhaps looking for vulnerability or something that suggested of a greater knowledge. It was somewhat uncomfortable to be scrutinized so closely, but Thor had nothing to hide.

If anything, it only gave him motivation to live more purposefully. He laughed harder; he drank more heartily. He helped carry groceries and left generous tips to the waitresses at the diner. He paid for coffee for random strangers, and he helped change the tires or fix the engines of anyone who broke down on their way through town. He drank with his friends after work, and went dancing with Darcy. He took Jane to dinner, holding her hand under the streetlights and stealing a kiss as often as he could.

This was life, and it was good. Whatever threats loomed -- and Thor could only speculate on those -- they only made this time more precious. Thor had lived for centuries in the entire splendor of Asgard and the Nine Realms.

Yet, he had never felt more alive than in these last two years.

Two years against the backdrop of centuries.

He cherished the former but still ached for the later. It was a strange kind of limbo, to live two lives and desire both so strongly.

He was fortunate that the choice was not his to make.

It was merely his to accept.

And flourish under.

-o-

“Wait,” Darcy said. “Look at the date.”

Jane was making annotations on her latest work. “Hm?”

Thor glanced at the paper, chewing a bite of soggy cereal. “What of it?” he asked.

“It’s almost been another year!” Darcy exclaimed.

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” Jane said distractedly.

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Since Thor’s...Thor Day,” she said.

Jane looked up, brow furrowed.

Thor chewed thoughtfully. “Thor Day?”

“You know,” Darcy said, gesturing aimlessly. “Since you literally fell out of the sky and Jane hit you with a car.”

“You keep bringing that up,” Jane protested.

“Well, you did! And you didn’t even want to go to the hospital!” Darcy said.

“Well, you tased him,” Jane said dourly.

“Which I am still not ashamed to admit,” Darcy said.

Thor laughed, shaking his head. “What of any of it?”

“So,” Darcy said. “It’s your Thor Day! We celebrate that, don’t we?”

“Ah,” Thor said. “I assure you, no celebration is necessary--”

“No, she’s right,” Jane said. “I’d been meaning to start planning something--”

“Honestly,” Thor said. “I don’t need--”

“You don’t _need_ to celebrate,” Darcy said. “That’s why parties are so awesome. A little self-indulgence does us good.”

“Are you sure you just do not want an excuse to buy a keg of beer?” Thor asked.

“I am not opposed to that,” Darcy said. “But Thor Day!”

Jane put down her pencil. “There will be a party.”

Thor sighed. “But your work is so busy--”

“And you’ve been awesome about it,” Jane said. “Just...let us have this one, okay?”

“If it will make you feel better,” Thor agreed.

Jane rolled her eyes. “Only you could make a party for you a favor.”

“I would be honored,” Thor said, realizing how his self-deprecation could be received.

“Good,” Jane said. She paused, picking up her pencil again. “We have a lot to do.”

Darcy grinned, throwing her arms up in the arm in victory. “Thor Day!”

-o-

Though he wished to be helpful, Thor understood the importance of surprise when it came to these things. After planning their six month anniversary, he could respect Jane’s desire to do something as a means of showing her devotion.

He couldn’t deny, however, that it still made him uncomfortable. Of all the things he’d learned from his time on Earth, the humility of service was chief among them. He’d spent centuries being pampered and wanting for nothing in his father’s palace. He had grown used to the adoration of his people and the congratulation of his friends. It had been with that confidence that he had entered Jotunheim.

It had been that confidence that had seen him banished from Asgard and resigned to this place.

Sometimes Thor was aware just how deeply this shift had affected him, though as time passed, he found it easier to go about his daily routine without concerning himself too much. Yet, when he was put in a position to receive generosity from others, he found himself ill at ease.

It was fear, in many ways. Fear that he would revert, that he would become the man he had been back on Asgard. He did not wish to repeat the mistakes that had thrust the realms back into war.

More than that, he was afraid of losing what he had managed to build in the aftermath. The loss of Asgard had very nearly gutted him. To lose this life as well…

Thor could not imagine.

That was the irony, in many ways. That now he had to force himself to be idle, to let those he cared for dote on him. It was different now, though. Looking back, he could not decide how much of the camaraderie he had enjoyed was merely a result of his station. How many people had agreed with him because he spoke so loudly and so confidently? Who had followed him just because he was Asgard’s golden heir?

There were many doubts now, but not about that. He could not -- nor would he -- ever doubt that Jane loved him. He might have deemed himself unworthy of her affection, but she did not know him as a great warrior or a prince of many. She knew him as a crazy man, who fell from the sky and spoke nonsense.

She wanted to do this for him because she cared for him.

In this, Thor knew the most helpful thing he could do was to stay out of her way until the celebration was complete.

-o-

One night, when he got home from work, he was surprised to find Darcy alone at the equipment. She was leaned back in her chair, staring intently at her phone. Jane, however, was nowhere in sight.

“Is everything okay?” Thor asked. Setting his keys on the table as he keenly scanned the room for signs that something was amiss.

“Dude, I’m about to beat my best score,” Darcy said.

Thor came closer to her. “Angry Birds?”

“Plants versus Zombies,” Darcy said. “I just need to get -- damn it! There are too many!”

“You need to invest more in your long range defenses,” Thor advised. “You are invariably weak because you let the zombies get too close to your home, giving them time to back up into each other and overpower your plants.”

Darcy put down her phone with a glare. “And you’re an expert zombie killer?”

“It is a simplistic game,” Thor said. “Hardly any strategy is involved.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you’re not annoying to be around.”

Thor drew a breath and shook his head. “My apologies,” he said wryly. “I am sure you are very skilled at zombie eradication.”

She smirked. “Hell, yeah,” she said. “In real life, anyway.”

Thor considered this. “I imagine you would be a formidable presence in any fight,” he said. “But tell me, where is Jane?”

“She left me alone with the equipment,” Darcy said, sounding truly put out. “Again.”

Thor looked at her in surprise. “Again?”

“She’s been doing it all week!” Darcy complained. “She keeps saying she has errands.”

“Errands?” Thor inquired.

“Party planning,” Darcy said. “Food and drinks and music and--”

Thor was perplexed by this. “Surely this is not all necessary.”

“You would think,” Darcy agreed. “But apparently after you gave her the best six month anniversary _ever,_ she really wants to get this right.”

“Her love and devotion is more than enough for--”

Darcy held up her hands. “Hey, I tried to tell her that,” she said. “Do you think I want to be stuck here in this lab _nonstop_ so she can plan a party?”

“But you like parties,” Thor said.

“Um, instant gratification,” Darcy said. “I’m not that big into delayed benefits.”

“Ah,” Thor said. “Good things come to those who wait.”

“But good things happen to those who take them,” Darcy said. “Now, right now.”

“How’s that working for you?” Thor asked.

Darcy’s face scrunched up in what appeared to be genuine discomfort. “I am so _bored_.”

Thor laughed. “What if I offered to make you dinner?”

“That would help,” Darcy said.

“Then it shall be done!” Thor declared.

“Can you also watch the equipment and monitor the results and file the paperwork?” Darcy asked.

“Not if you wish dinner,” Thor told her as he moved to the cooking area.

“Ugh, choices!” Darcy said. “I want everything!”

Thor opened a cupboard, pulling out a pan. He turned back toward Darcy with a smile. “Satisfaction,” he told her. “It is a powerful virtue. Much like patience.”

Darcy flopped forward miserably. “You’d better make biscuits, too.”

“Now, that,” Thor said, opening the fridge to take out some ingredients, “is something you can have.”

-o-

When Jane arrived back, dinner was served and mostly eaten. “I know, I know, I’m late,” she said, coming around and pecking Thor’s cheek with a kiss before sitting down. “I lost track of time.”

“That’s okay,” Darcy said. “Thor made biscuits!”

Jane reached out, taking one. “You’re amazing,” she said to him.

“Um, don’t get too excited about it. The biscuits take like ten minutes,” Darcy said. “It’s literally Bisquick and milk. Even I could make it.”

“But they’re amazing,” Jane said, chewing a mouthful. “And you didn’t.”

“But ten minutes,” Darcy said. “I spent three hours monitoring your equipment!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jane said. “Did you want a kiss, too?”

Darcy glared at her. “A little gratitude might be nice.”

“Isn’t that called a paycheck?” Jane asked, helping herself to some of the meal.

Darcy huffed. “You were so much easier to work for when we had no budget and no credibility.”

Jane grinned. “Come on,” she said. “It is way more fun now.”

“You got the research, the grant, the publications, the boyfriend,” Darcy said. “And I have?”

“Good food, good company, good pay,” Jane said.

“I filed your latest data in the wrong index,” Darcy said.

“You didn’t,” Jane replied.

Darcy shrugged. “Well if you have good food, good company and good pay, then what else do you need?”

“Your point is noted,” Jane said. “And ignored.”

“Besides,” Thor interjected. “We are all underestimating the value of good humor as well.”

“See,” Jane said. “Thor gets it.”

“Your Norse god of a boyfriend gets it,” Darcy said. “Wonderful.”

“It is not so bad,” Thor said. “I think I have enough ingredients to make brownies.”

“Now you’re bribing me with chocolate,” Darcy said.

Thor looked at her. “And is it working?”

“Of course!” Darcy said. “Because your brownies are like crack.”

Jane rolled her eyes. “Everything will be back to normal next week.”

“Um,” Darcy said. “Things haven’t been normal for two years, if you haven’t checked.”

Jane looked at Thor, who reddened. She smiled. “Okay, point taken,” she said, reaching out to squeeze Thor’s hand across the table. “I’m just not sure that’s a bad thing.”

Thor’s chest felt tight; his stomach churned. This _feeling_. The intensity of it. There were countless people in the universe, but none of them were like Jane Foster.

There was nothing normal about their life, no matter how mundane it might seem. There was nothing ordinary about their routine, no matter how ingrained it was.

For Thor had found a new life in a death sentence. He had found freedom in exile. He had found a family in being cut off from every person he loved.

For as impossible as it was to elucidate on these feelings, he was increasingly aware that he would never have to. Not when Jane knew exactly how he felt.

And, with one look, he knew she felt exactly the same.

“Oh come on,” Darcy said, eating another biscuit noisily. “Get a room!”

-o-

That night, on his way to bed, Thor stopped next to Jane at her work station. “Still busy?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said, sounding tired and distracted. “There’s just so much to do.”

“You really do not need to put so much time into the party,” Thor said gently. “You have already proven yourself more than dedicated.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide. “No! It’s not that,” she said. “The party has been a welcome distraction, trust me.”

“I just do not like to see you so busy,” Thor said.

“It’s the data,” Jane said, gesturing to her papers. “It just keeps building. I can barely keep up with it anymore. I’m going to have to write to see if I can get funding for another assistant because at the rate we’re seeing information pour in, there’s no way we can keep up.”

“Still no indication what it means?” Thor asked.

Jane shook her head. “It’d be speculation,” she said. “But I don’t know how it’s possible that we haven’t had another event. From the looks of things, there’s travel all across our galaxy, just not targeted here.”

Thor swallowed hard, refusing to say how much of a good thing that might be. Instead, he leaned closer, nudging her gently. “You are only truly happy when you are busy.”

Grinning shyly, she nudged him back. “That’s not the only time I’m happy.”

“Perhaps,” he said. He paused. “What do you say about some time under the stars? You haven’t been up on the roof in awhile.”

It had been nearly a week, but Thor was aware that such record keeping was often frowned upon in relationships.

Her brows knitted apologetically. “I’d love to, I would,” she said. “But--”

He shook his head. “No need to explain,” he said. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Oh, no,” she said. “You should sleep.”

“Jane,” he said, looking at her seriously. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

She sighed with a smile. “If you want to start filing--”

Thor was already picking up the papers before she had a chance to finish explaining.

-o-

Saturday afternoon, Darcy took him shopping under the pretense of needing his help.

“To pick out a shower curtain,” she said.

“A shower curtain?” Thor asked.

“Yes,” Darcy said. “I need a shower curtain.”

“And you need help because…”

“Because,” Darcy said. “Have you ever seen the selection of shower curtains? Do I want fabric or plastic? Do I want clear or white? Should I get new rings for the top?”

These were nuances Thor had not considered before, though he did use his own shower curtain frequently.

Even so, there was something amiss. “You value my opinion?”

Darcy made a face. “Yes?”

Thor frowned.

“Whatever,” Darcy said, sighing. “Jane needs you out of the house so she can set up and surprise you. So I really do need your help getting a shower curtain, or she will spontaneously combust.”

“I thought spontaneous combustion was a myth,” Thor said.

“Really?” Darcy said. “That’s what you took away from this conversation.”

Thor nodded, duly sheepish. “Well, then,” he said, puffing himself up a bit overly grand. “We should really go find you the best shower curtain there is.”

“Or,” Darcy said. “We can skip the shower curtain and go get something to drink for an hour and come back and act _super_ surprised.”

“I like the way you think, Darcy Lewis,” Thor said.

“Yeah,” Darcy agreed. “I like the way I think, too.”

“Though if you need a shower--”

“Thor,” Darcy said. “Shut up and get your keys! Before you drive me even more crazy than Jane does!”

-o-

Though they had ample time to waste, Thor bought only one drink for each of them, much to Darcy’s dismay.

“Now is not the time to be a stingy date,” she lectured, eating a handful of pretzels.

Thor shrugged. “I am not your date.”

She shook her head diffidently. “Blah, blah, blah,” she said. “You know, I will have you realize that I am an _excellent_ date.”

“I do not doubt it,” Thor said. “How is your latest boyfriend?”

“His name is Drew, and he’s not my boyfriend,” Darcy said.

“So you are not seeing him anymore?” Thor asked.

Darcy smirked. “I see quite a bit of him,” she said. “But he will never be boyfriend material.”

“Ah,” Thor said. Of all the nuances in Earth’s conversation, innuendo had taken the longest for him to detect. It was not that such things were not said on Asgard; it was that they usually had a lot more imagination and metaphor involved. Fandral had been quite adept at discussing relationships in regards to swords, flowers and untamed beasts. “I thought he seemed like quite a reasonable fellow.”

“Oh, yes,” Darcy said. “Very reasonable.”

Thor took a small drink. “Then what is the problem?”

“I don’t _want_ reasonable,” Darcy said. “I think it’s your fault.”

Thor raised his eyebrows in concern. “Mine?”

“Yes, you!” Darcy said.

“I believe I live a very reasonable life,” Thor said.

“But you fell from the sky,” Darcy said. “You actually _fell from the sky_. And you’re strong and you’re handsome and you’re nice and you’re thoughtful. I mean, I don’t even understand how it’s possible for someone to be like you. You never leave the toilet seat down; you never pick fights with Jane; you never do anything _wrong_.”

“Is that not a good thing?” Thor asked.

“It’s entirely unrealistic!” Darcy said. “Every guy who dates me doesn’t even come close to that.”

“Darcy,” Thor said, suddenly uncomfortable. “I had no idea--”

“Whoa, there, big guy,” she said. “I mean, I find you very attractive, but you’re like my oversized big brother.”

Thor nodded slowly, not sure that he understood.

“But I’ve seen what you did for Jane,” she said. “I saw how you changed her without changing her at all. That’s what a relationship is. And I’m just so not ready for that.”

Looking at his drink, Thor chewed his lip thoughtfully. “Has my presence been bothersome to you?”

“You cook and clean,” Darcy said. “I’m pretty sure that’s never going to be bothersome.”

Thor glanced at her. “I value your friendship, Darcy,” he said. “I would never do anything to make your life more difficult.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “It’s a good thing, trust me,” she said. “What you and Jane have -- it’s grown up, it’s settled. And that’s nice and all, but that’s not me. Not yet. Maybe someday, some dude will fall out of the sky for me, until then I’ll take my pancakes and my non-boyfriends, thank you very much.”

There was earnestness in Darcy’s answer, unfettered by conventional wisdom or presumptive narratives. Thor recognized something in that; the desire to live life, and to live it fully. Thor had always endeavored for such things on Asgard, and he had not suffered regrets for centuries. There was an innocence to that, even if one that had never been deserved. Most of the time, those who pushed the boundaries rarely understood the implications of breaking them.

For Thor, it had ended in disaster and exile.

Darcy, however, did not have to suffer this way. She would learn in her own time and in her own way. Most people grew up by degrees; not in a single, soul-rending incidence.

As Darcy’s friend, he would try to help her avoid the hardships, even while never leaving her side when the inevitably occurred. 

Thor raised his glass toward Darcy. “To the freedom of youth,” he said.

She raised her glass. “May it never change.”

Taking a drink, Thor believed they both had reason to hope.

-o-

After finishing their drinks, Thor took Darcy back home. When they parked, she sighed. “You still need to act surprised and all,” she said.

“Surely Jane knows--”

“Surely Jane just wants to get this right,” Darcy said. “I wasn’t kidding, you know. When I said you’d changed her. I worked for her a full year before you showed up, and I couldn’t get her to invite anyone over for fun, not once. And now here she is, throwing surprise parties.”

Thor looked out the window to the dimly lit lab. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ve been a burden.”

“Oh, please,” Darcy said. “If you have any flaw, it’s self-deprecation. I would have left, I think, if not for you showing up. You make her human.”

That was the irony then. That he made _her_ human when it was her who was at the very heart of his own humanity.

“Very well, then,” Thor said as he climbed out of the car. “Let us go forth and be surprised!”

-o-

When they got inside, no one was hiding. Even so, everyone turned toward him and raised their glasses with a resounding chorus of _surprise!_

The crowd was much larger this year. There were many people from town, and most of his work associates and their loved ones. There were children he had babysat for, couples for whom he had walked their dogs. There were people from the gym, from the hardware store, from the cafe. Even Travis from the pet shop.

Then his eyes found Jane, standing at the center of them all. She was smiling so big, so true.

No matter how many times he saw that look, it was always caught him off guard.

“Nice,” Darcy said, leaning in close to him. “Very convincing look.”

Thor could not find the words as his chest swelled with pride.

For how could he explain that it was no surprise at all?

-o-

Last year, the party had been enjoyable. There had been food and friends, enough for several hours of good entertainment.

This year, however, the lab was overflowing. People seemed to grow in number as the hours went on, and Thor found himself at the center of attention all night. He tried to make it close to Jane, but he found that he barely turned around when someone else wanted to talk to him.

“Thor, tell him about the time you saved the entire project with _one hand_ \--”

“Wait, what about the time you were able to sing the entire introduction to _Bohemian Rhapsody_ \--”

“Well, I’ll tell you what, this boy can lift an entire refrigerator all by himself--”

“And he’s got this way with plants--”

“And kids--”

There were no gleaming halls and no stories of grand conquest. No one sang traditional odes or feasted at golden tables.

But this was all very familiar, still.

-o-

His friends came to enjoy themselves.

Thor did not intend to let them down.

He won most of the drinking games, and when they sang karaoke with the machine Jane had rented, he was louder than all the rest. He told dramatic stories of life on the job and spoke grandly of Jane’s work about the lab. He was easily the center of attention, mesmerizing his guests with his gravitas alone.

This had never been hard for Thor, to be adored and loved. He had often glowed like the suns on Asgard, and that was even easier here on a planet so dim and short lived.

He liked to think he had earned it this time. For feats not of conquest, but of service. For acts of not of pride, but of humility.

There were many reasons to be loved, and countless ways to be a hero.

Maybe worth was not something defined by a hammer at all.

-o-

The celebration lasted into the night. Though some of his friends went home, others settled themselves about the lab, too inebriated to safely return to their residences. Some were still talking and drinking, and Thor found himself looking around, searching for the one person he had not spent time with that evening.

Curious, he eventually found himself on the roof, where Jane was curled up on a chair, looking at the stars.

“How long have you been here?” he asked.

She glanced at him, smiling. “Not too long.”

“You should be down at the party,” he said, settling in the chair beside her.

“It’s your party,” she said with a shrug. “Why aren’t you there?”

“It is mostly over,” he said. “I was looking for you.”

“Well, you seemed pretty busy,” she said.

“Do not think that I forgot you,” Thor said.

Jane looked at him, surprised. “No, Thor,” she said. “That’s good. That’s good that you were busy. In the two years you’ve been here, I’ve worried that you’ve been too secluded -- held back. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love being such a big part of your life, but all relationships need balance. People need balance. The fact that you have friends, that you have hobbies, that you have a _life_ \--” She shook her head, smiling again. “You’ve changed a lot from that first time I met you.”

“All thanks to you,” he said, reaching over to take her hand. “All of this is thanks to you.”

“Thor,” she said. “You can’t really still think that?”

Thor cocked his head.

“Those people down there,” she said. “They came for you. They came because of the impact you’ve had on their lives. And I mean, just think about the impact you’ve had on my life. I can’t imagine where I’d be if you hadn’t stayed. This whole thing, it’s a two-way street.”

“I have always felt that you have given me more than I could ever return,” Thor confessed.

“And you think I don’t feel the same?” she asked. “Thor, I don’t know why this thing works between us. I mean, there’s no reason it should work except you made a choice to make it work. And I don’t know. That’s amazing, really. You’re amazing.”

It would be easy to deflect, as had become his custom on Earth. But Jane’s earnestness was important to him, and though he found himself eager to listen to all points of view, there was none he valued more than Jane’s. For she saw the world with simplicity, which he had often lacked. She had been brazen enough to track him down and take him in. She had been curious enough to believe him, even when it seemed outlandish and all the evidence spoke to the contrary. And she had been vulnerable enough to trust him, when he was a broken man with nothing to offer.

There was no one he considered smarter or wiser.

He squeezed her hand. “Thank you,” he said. “Of all I have gained in this life, there is nothing more valuable than you.”

“Ugh,” she said, shaking her head. “Stop being so _perfect._ ”

“I’m afraid that is impossible,” he said with a smirk.

“Then I’m just going to have to make you shut up,” she said.

“And how’s that?” he asked.

She drew close to him with a kiss.

He nodded in contemplation. “That might work--”

She kissed him again.

And Thor found that there was nothing left to say.

-o-

In the morning, Thor helped the rest of his friends in getting home before starting to clean up the lab. Though Darcy did not rouse from the couch, work took the better part of the day until Jane declared that moving would just be easier.

“Easier,” Thor conceded. “But not better.”

Jane made a sound of discontent. “You’re lucky I love you.”

He grinned at her. “Very lucky indeed!”

-o-

Two years down, Thor thought when the lab was clean.

Two years.

He smiled at the thought.

And so many more to go.

-o-

Over the next week, Thor went to work humming. Each night, he came home, ready to make dinner. He picked up around the lab with a smile, and he volunteered to do more chores than ever. He read books; he watched television; he texted his friends.

Mostly, Thor lived his life.

He wanted nothing more.

-o-

It was Saturday evening, just after five, when Thor arrived back. He had just finished helping one of his friends at the gym with a window installation, and it had taken a bit longer than he had anticipated. Even so, he was pleased to see there was plenty of time to take Jane out for dinner.

That was his plan, anyway.

When he got back to the lab, he quickly realized he may have been presumptuous.

The lab was never particularly tidy where Jane’s work was concerned. She was not disorderly exactly, but given the sheer amount of data she dealt with on a daily basis, things tended to accumulate rather quickly. Thor had learned, over time, how to clean around her work in order to preserve her organizational systems and still keep things sanitary.

This, however.

This was different.

Jane’s work was everywhere. She had papers spread across every surface, and she had sheets taped to walls and windows.

He stopped, contemplating his words carefully.

“I know, I know, I know!” she said. “I look like a crazy person.”

Thor recovered his self-control admirably. “I said nothing.”

“Ugh,” Jane said, running a frenetic hand through her hair as she sifted through another stack. “I feel like a crazy person.”

Thor walked forward carefully, perusing the papers. “I have only been gone for a few hours,” he said. “What happened?”

“Well,” Jane said. “I had a thought about cross referencing the time and date with each lunar cycle to see if we could detect any other abnormalities, and then I was thinking about extrapolating the data on a much higher scale, because now that there are several years’ worth of data, we can start to draw much larger conclusions, and so I started to sort things out and I kept sorting and sorting and sorting…”

Thor nodded, turning toward her. “And soon all your work was posted on walls.”

She looked guilty. “It’s only two years’ worth,” she said. “I lost most of the rest when S.H.I.E.L.D. took it. I never did have time to print out hard copies from what we got back on the thumb drive.”

“I doubt we would have had space for more,” Thor said.  
Jane groaned, slumping into a chair. “What am I going to do?”

Thor gathered a breath, going to her and settling his hands on her shoulders. “You are going to keep working,” he said. “Continuing sorting and keep at this.”

Jane looked up at him. “What about you? We were supposed to go for dinner?”

He smiled, cupping her face. “I will bring dinner to you,” he said. “And then we can eat it together while we finish this task. Together.”

“Ugh,” Jane said again. “How do I get myself into these messes?”

“You are a brilliant, dedicated scientist,” he said. “This is not a mess. This is innovation and progress.”

She looked as if she would concede that point.

“Besides,” Thor said. “You love this. The chaos before creation. The mess before the masterpiece.”

Her face started to widen. “Yeah, you’re kind of right.”

“I am entirely right,” he said. “Now, I have one last, very important question.”

She lifted her eyebrows expectantly.

He smiled boldly at her. “Pizza or Chinese?”

-o-

Thor ended up getting both, and it was very good that he did. They ate their first dinner at six. By ten, when they were still working, Thor was ready for more. Jane finished the last of the pizza at midnight.

It wasn’t the most romantic date, but Thor had no complaints.

-o-

“Mmmhmm,” Darcy said, nodding her head. “This cut works for you.”

Thor frowned, looking down at the pants in the mirror. “I don’t see any difference.”

“You’re not looking,” she said. “I mean, the fit is way different.”

“It feels exactly the same,” Thor said.

“No,” Darcy said. “Move around a little.”

Thor obeyed dutifully, trying not to notice as people lingered. It seemed like a strange concept, to have fittings be so public, but since he and Darcy were of different genders, there seemed to be no other way to get her opinion on the clothing items.

And, since she had picked most of them out, that seemed rather important.

Taking several paces, he frowned. “These do feel somewhat tighter.”

“Yes,” Darcy said. “That’s because they are.”

“Is that a sign that they are too small?” Thor asked, glancing back at where the jeans fit on his backside.

“Mmm,” Darcy said, shaking her head. “They are definitely not too small.”

Thor bent at the knees, before touching his toes. “These do seem to impede my movement to some degree,” he noted.

“Well, to be fair, the other pairs impede other things.”

Thor looked at her curiously. “What other things?”

“Your… _assets,_ ” Darcy said, keeping a straight face.

Thor frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Just buy the jeans, Thor,” she said. “Trust me on this one. For my sake. For Jane’s. For the good of humanity.”

“That seems a bit much for a pair of jeans,” Thor said dubiously.

“You have much to learn about humanity, then,” she said. “Oh, and you’re getting the black t-shirt. Five of them.”

“Five?”

“Yes,” Darcy said.

“I said I needed new weekend clothes, but I’m not sure how this will help me,” Thor concluded.

“Fine, two of the black t-shirts and the jeans,” she said. “And then whatever else you want.”

“But it is my money,” Thor objected.

“Thor, would you deny me this? After everything we’ve been through?” she asked.

“You are always quick to validate the time you tasered me, rendering me insensate in a hospital,” Thor pointed out.

“And Jane hit you with a car twice, and you still dote on her,” Darcy countered. “Please?”

Thor sighed. “I still do not see why these clothes matter so much?”

“Oh, trust me,” Darcy said. “They matter.”

-o-

Thor bought the jeans and two black t-shirts.

He also bought a pair of khakis and a pair of relax fit jeans. He found a football jersey that he liked very much, and he bought himself several vintage style t-shirts and a polo. To finish things off, he bought several new pairs of underwear before investing in a pair of tennis shoes and sandals.

Back at the lab, when he tried a few items on for Jane, he asked which she liked best.

“Those jeans,” she said without a moment’s hesitation. “And the black t-shirt.”

“See,” Darcy said smugly. “Told you.”


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cast out, rejected, and left behind: it mattered not the means.
> 
> Just the end.
> 
> Where Thor stood alone.

It was not long after when the letter came.

Thor was good about picking up the mail, though he found that he received very little. At first, he had enjoyed the volume of so-called junk mail, reading through each item carefully before Jane had finally convinced him that it was either political propaganda or excessive advertising.

To be fair, Thor did enjoy the coupons for fast food.

It was Jane who was the recipient of most of the mail, and he had long since stopped trying to discern what the items may be. Most of them were from academic institutions or scientific journals. He did his best to weed out the advertisements, of which Jane had no use, to simply supply her with those items which he had come to realize were relevant.

Therefore, when he did not recognize the letter, he did find it curious. It was heavier than most of the letters they received, and it did not appear to be a publication. The priority mail postage indicated that it was a more urgent matter, so Thor delivered her the letter with some curiosity.

“Just put it over--” she started, then stopped, actually looking at the letter. “Wait. Is that--?”

Without finishing the ill-formed thought she snatched the letter, ripping it open. Her eyes scanned it quickly, darting back and forth across the lines as her jaw dropped open.

“Hey, what is that?” Darcy asked, leaning over her shoulder. “That looks like it’s from Stark Industries.”

“It is,” Jane said, still gaping somewhat.

Darcy turned in earnest now, half leaning on Jane’s shoulder. “Did you just get a letter from Tony Stark?”

“No, no,” Jane said, shaking her head. “It’s better.”

Darcy looked doubtful. “I’m not sure you can do better than Tony Stark--”

“It’s Pepper Potts,” she said. “She’s the one who actually runs the thing.”

“So it is from Stark Industries,” Darcy clarified. “Because I really want to try on an Iron Man suit.”

“I did not realize he was involved with academia,” Thor said, hoping to focus Jane’s reading.

“He’s not, directly,” Jane said. “But Stark Industries does a lot with research and development and--”

“--and they want you to present at the expo!” Darcy said, half jumping on Jane now.

“The expo?” Thor asked.

“A technology convention,” Jane said, still reading the letter distractedly. “They showcase the latest technologies; they dream big about the future.”

“It is a big deal?” Thor asked.

Jane laughed. “Yeah,” she said. “It’s sort of the _biggest_ deal. I mean, I know they focus on weapons, but Stark Industries has technologies that could advance the world on a whole bunch of fronts, from energy to communication to--”

“Intergalactic travel,” Darcy said.

Jane looked at her, still in shock.

Darcy grinned. “That’s what they want, isn’t it?”

“They’ve been following my work,” Jane said. “They think if we present, we could get more backing and more funding.”

“Oh, yeah? I’m so getting a raise,” Darcy said.

“That could give you means to expand your lab,” Thor said. “To increase your production.”

“I know!” Jane said. She shook her head in disbelief, looking at the letter again. “It could take my theory and make it a reality.”

“With Tony Stark as a backer, this whole thing will become a much bigger deal,” Darcy said. “I mean the press coverage alone. You’ll be doing interviews--”

“It could all happen,” Jane said. She stopped, shaking her head and laughing again. “This could be it. This could make _everything_ happen.”

She looked at Thor, the depths of her passion unmatched. Thor was used to seeing Jane full of wonder and curiosity. He found her pursuit of knowledge and her insatiable curiosity to be among her most noteworthy traits.

But this was different somehow. This was more than the potential.

This was the realization.

It was familiar, Thor realized, because he had seen it in himself more than once. It was the settled assurance of success. It was the long waited promise of triumph. It was the touch of greatness that few experienced in life.

And in that moment, Thor saw something else as well. He saw a life where Jane was too busy for nights on the roof. He saw a reality where she was too important to stay in a small New Mexico town with her boyfriend who worked construction.

He saw a world where she achieved greatness.

A world where Thor would not.

The suddenness of this doubt, the depth of the unknown -- it came stark and unbidden. It was insecurity, of course. A very human emotion; born of his humility. But there was darkness to it now, desperation.

For Thor did not know how he would bear to part with her.

Yet he knew it was not a choice for him to make.

No, the only choice Thor could make would be to support her, no matter what. This life was no longer about him. It was her success he craved, at any cost.

If this was a test, he would pass.

Smiling broadly, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “This is good news then!” Thor said. “Come. We should celebrate!”

Jane let out a breath. “I...I have to get started,” she said. “I have to contact Stark Industries and start working on a presentation.”

Darcy perused the letter again. She swore. “This thing is in three weeks?”

Running a hand through her hair, Jane turned nervously back toward her lab. “Maybe this won’t work?”

“Nonsense,” Thor said. “We will do it together. Why don’t you make the phone call, and Darcy will start finishing the paperwork from today’s research.”

Darcy frowned petulantly. “What about you?”

“I will make dinner,” Thor said. “Unless you object to chili?”

“Carry on, ye god of thunder,” Darcy said dutifully. “Carry on.”

Jane squeezed his fingers, standing on her toes to kiss him. “Thank you.”

“You’re the one who has done all the work to earn this,” he pointed out.

“Yeah,” she said. “Still.”

He bent, kissing her back, because her gratitude was not hard to see. Even if sometimes he did not understand it, he would not take it -- or her -- for granted. “Still.”

-o-

For two days, there was nothing but excitement. As soon as Jane formally accepted the invitation, more letters arrived with information about the presentation and the conference. Jane made frequent phone calls, filling out copious amounts of paperwork while she shuttled Darcy about the lab to find the necessary papers. In her spare time, of which there was nearly none, she set to working on a model and miniature scaled prototype, while relaying the data to Darcy to make a PowerPoint presentation.

Thor, of course, did what he could. He supplied coffee and made meals. He kept things organized, and tried to find ways to make Jane laugh. He kept Darcy’s iPod charged and did his best to ensure that Jane remained properly hydrated while she worked.

It was exciting. So much activity. Seeing Jane so engaged. The air of anticipation was enlivening, her enthusiasm nearly contagious.

And then the travel arrangements were mailed.

Darcy whistled as she looked at them. “First class!” she said. “They’re actually flying us _first class_.”

“Well, they offered a private jet, but I didn’t think--”

Darcy scoffed. “Of course you didn’t.”

Jane glared at her. “First class is more than generous.”

“I’m not going to complain,” Darcy said, settling her shoulders primly. “As long as you promise me that while we are not presenting, I am free to mingle.”

“It’s a scientific expo,” Jane said.

“And Tony Stark is a millionaire with amazing taste,” Darcy said. “Besides, I am well overdue for a vacation.”

“It’s not a vacation,” Jane said.

“It’s a first class, all expenses paid trip to California,” Darcy said. “I’m calling it a vacation.”

Thor, who was busy doing the dishes, turned at that. “California?”

“Yeah, that’s where it’s at,” Darcy said. “A week on the beach.”

“A week?” Thor asked.

Jane looked at him, as if she realized something for the first time. “Oh, Thor,” she said. “I really should have mentioned that part earlier.”

“Mentioned what?”

“We’ll be gone for a week,” she said. “Darcy and I. We’ll be gone for a week at the expo.”

Thor blinked a few times. This was not exactly surprising. He had known the expo was an extended event, but he hadn’t truly thought about the immediate implications.

The thought of Jane and Darcy both being gone.

For a week.

“You know,” Jane said, coming closer to him. “I could buy you a ticket.”

“Dude, just ask for another one,” Darcy said. “They can afford it.”

“We’ll work something out.”

Thor shook his head, almost too surprised to realize the full extent of what was happening. It was not merely the fact that he’d be alone. True, this did cause him some trepidation. For all the times he had ventured into the unknown fearlessly, he had grown quite attached to Jane Foster. He knew he could live a life without her, but he had never wanted to, and that desire was a presumable difference.

Even so, a week was a small amount of time. Thor could cook and clean and fully manage all household affairs. Moreover, he had friends and hobbies; and really, it might be nice to have some time alone.

No, it was not that. And it was not even the lapse in telling him this in the first place. In the excitement, it would be an easy detail to overlook. Whereas Thor had once been the center of his own universe, he now readily accepted that this was no longer the case. This wasn’t about him, not in the least.

But that look on Jane’s face.

It was pity.

She pitied Thor.

He had lived for centuries. He had been victorious in all realms. He had once been destined to be the king of Asgard.

And Jane Foster _pitied_ him.

Thor had learned humility. He had accepted his fate; embraced it even.

But he was not a man devoid of pride.

“That will not be necessary,” he said, trying to sound neither brusque nor offended. “I will be quite all right.”

Jane stepped closer to him, even more sympathetically. “Thor, I should have thought--”

He pulled back just slightly, out of a reflex he’d forgotten that he had. “Please, Jane,” he said. “I am not a child that I would need a babysitter--”

“I know that, I--”

“I mean what I say,” Thor said, gazing at her intently. “I am very happy for you, but you need not worry about me.”

Jane closed her mouth, appearing somewhat uncertain. “I just...I mean, I’d love for you to come.”

“You forget,” Thor said. “I also have a job. One that requires my presence here.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” Jane hedged.

“I am most certain,” Thor declared. Refusing to be cowed any longer by these implications. “Now. Tell me more of this first class.”

-o-

Jane and Darcy were not slated to leave for a couple weeks, but there were times when it seemed like they were already gone. Jane was preoccupied by her work under normal circumstances, but with the deadline in front of her, she was fully consumed. Darcy, though she could be temperamental as an assistant, proved her mettle. They were often both still working when Thor came home at night, and they pored over their work at the breakfast table while still in their pajamas. Darcy took to sleeping on the couch full time, and there were some nights Thor heard them still talking while he went to bed.

Thor did what he could, of course. Just as he always had. He used his spare time to catch up on some reading, and he finished another of Shakespeare’s plays before reading through the strange diction of William Faulkner. He listened to the complete symphonies of Mozart while mastering another book of Sudoku. When he was bored still, he took to sketching, and though art had never been a particular talent of his, he found that he liked to draw scenes of nature, with dark skies and ominous clouds.

He kept himself occupied and upbeat and readily available should they need anything. He lingered hopefully, taking simple pleasure in being near them both. He’d lie in his bed at night, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the sound of their voices like a reassuring whisper as he slipped off to sleep.

-o-

At work, his friends congratulated him on the time off.

“A week, man? You better take that while you can,” Ricky said over lunch one day. “A week with the toilet seat up and dirty dishes in the sink, no one harping at me. Thank you, please.”

“Why would you leave the toilet seat up?” Thor asked. “If it belongs down then--”

Ricky snorted with a giggle. “You are whipped.”

“He’s respectful,” Jose said. “There’s a difference, not that you would know it.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Ricky said. “The point is this is a win-win for you. You get to play the good boyfriend by letting her go off and do her thing, plus you get out of any, and all, responsibilities while she’s gone. And she’ll be grateful when she gets back, if you know what I mean.”

Thor chewed for a moment, swallowing a bit of his sandwich. “Your insinuation is that I should be focused on what I get out of this.”

Ricky rolled his eyes. “My insinuation is that this is a good thing,” he said. “Really.”

Jose shrugged diplomatically. “A little break is good now and then,” he agreed. “Distance makes the heart grow fonder and all.”

Considering this, Thor ate another bite. “I suppose there could be some gains.”

“You’ll be fine,” Jose said, smiling with assurance. “And hey, if you need anything, just call. We’d be happy to have you over for dinner.”

“Dude, this should be your chance to be a bachelor again,” Ricky said. “Just buy some beer, put the pizza delivery on speed dial, and you’re good to go.”

Jose shook his head with an exasperated chuckled. “And why would he want advice from you?”

“Better than you,” Ricky said. “Married and used up. It’s pathetic, man. Everyone knows that.”

“It’s only a week,” Jose said, both to Ricky and to Thor. He smiled. “You can survive a week.”

-o-

“Oh, you poor, poor dear,” Martha at the diner said. “A week all by your lonesome? That hardly seems fair.”

Thor smiled kindly. “I assure you, it is no big deal.”

“Of course it is!” Martha cried. “A week without anyone around. I can’t even imagine.”

“I will be quite well.”

But Martha shook her head. “You will just have to come in for your meals,” she said. “And don’t worry about the cost at all, please. And I can make you one of those cakes you like, all for yourself!”

“Well,” Thor said. “I do love your cakes.”

“That’s settled then!” Martha said. “The cake and some meat loaf. And maybe chicken pot pie, doesn’t that sound nice?”

Thor laughed. “Martha, your cooking is exquisite and your offer is very generous, but I am quite a capable cook. I do most of such chores for Jane and Darcy--”

She smiled sweetly at him. “I’m sure you do, dear,” she said. “But it’s different on your own.”

“It is only for one week,” Thor reminded her.

“One week that we will all make sure you are well cared for,” Martha promised him. “You just call me. Or you come down here. Any time, dear. Any time at all.”

Thor finished counting his change, laying out a generous tip on the counter. “You are far too kind, Martha.”

She reached out, patting his hand warmly. “Funny,” she said. “Because we’d all say the same about you.”

-o-

The advice, though superfluous, did make Thor feel better. It was a reminder, at the very least, that he was not as dependent on Jane as he might think. Yes, Jane was the primary factor in his life, but without her, he certainly was not alone. He had an entire network of friends, and though Thor knew that humans were prone to offer things they did not always wish to follow through with, he did not doubt that if he truly needed something, he would have assistance.

Maybe this was a good thing, even. To remind Thor that he was not so needy or lowly as he sometimes thought. In this humble life, Thor sometimes forgot all that he had accomplished.

He was _Thor_.

His trip to Jotunheim had been ill-advised and poorly executed, but he could not forget -- he _would not forget_ \-- that he had lived hundreds of years with countless successes.

He would learn his fallibility, but he did not need to succumb to crippling doubt. He could still achieve greatness in his own time and in his own way. Devotion did not need to be the end of him. He had built a life around Jane, but it had become more than that.

He was more than he had been that night he’d first been banished to Midgard.

Thor would never be the god of thunder again, but that did not mean he could _only_ be Jane Foster’s boyfriend. His identity was more than that, and it could be greater still.

He just had to remember what it was to be self-assured, to be independent, to be _confident_.

He had to remember what it was to be _Thor_.

And it seemed like there was no better time for that then now.

-o-

As the weeks wound down, Thor convinced himself all would be fine. The helpful chorus of support from his friends certainly did help the matter, and he found Jane’s concern to be both exasperating and endearing. Indeed, it was nice to think for once that he meant as much to her as she did to him, but her behavior was coming dangerously close to coddling.

Even if Thor would miss Jane, he did not need to be coddled.

“Maybe you could still get time off,” Jane said while she finished packing the afternoon before her scheduled departure. “I know we can get you a room at--”

“I would only be in the way,” he told her.

“But I hate the thought of you being alone,” Jane said. “Doing all of it by yourself around here.”

Thor sighed. “I do most of the household chores as it is,” he reminded her, not for the first time. “I have no reason to suspect I will suddenly become incapable should you be gone.”

She folded another pair of pants, shaking her head. “It’s not that.”

“Then what?” he asked.

She stopped, looking up at him. “It’s just different to be alone,” she said. “Even when it’s good and even when it’s healthy, sometimes it’s hard to be alone.”

“I will hardly be alone,” Thor said.

“That’s not the same thing,” she said, pulling a few undergarments from her drawers and putting them in her suitcase.

“And how is it so much different?”

Jane stopped again, inhaling deeply. “When I broke up with Donald, I knew it was the best thing for me,” she said. “There was never any doubt about that, but when the dust finally settled, when I was finally _alone,_ it was still hard.”

She was trying hard, and Thor recognized her vulnerability for what it was. The ability to express doubt or uncertainty was very important on Earth, and Thor had learned both to embrace the weaknesses in others and to not shy away from his own.

Even so, he could not help but think her concern was misplaced this time. “You will only be gone for a week,” he said again.

She crossed closer to him. “And we’ve never been apart for more than two nights, max,” she said. “It’s _different_.”

He reached out, placing two steady hands on her shoulders. “Maybe this time, different will be better,” he said.

Holding his gaze, her expression tightened for a moment. When she smiled, there was something bittersweet in the fondness. “Even so,” she said. “I want you to know that I wish you could be there.”

“Even so,” he said, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead. “I will be here when you get back.”

-o-

Thor had planned a comfortable evening for the two of them, since Darcy had insisted on having the day off to finish her own packing. He had hoped that with Jane’s impending departure, she might have time to spare for something a bit more romantic, but those hopes were quickly dashed.

After packing, Jane still had to finish loading up her gear and due to a mishap with the transportation company, she spent the better part of the evening on the phone. When she was done with that, she fretted over her presentation until Thor offered to listen to it -- again -- before assuring her, in so many words, that it was brilliant.

As it was Thor ate dinner alone, and enjoyed the better portion of two dozen cookies for himself, while she finished the final touches to her work. He waited for her hopefully, but found himself dozing before too long; until he came to with a start and realized that quiet had finally prevailed.

Sitting up, he blinked. The lab was dim, save for a lone light across the way. Jane’s work station was vacant, and her bags were by the door.

On his feet, he saw that she had eaten several cookies. Glancing out across the way, he could see no sign that she had retreated to her trailer. He looked at the clock -- it was a little past one in the morning -- which meant that Jane probably _should_ be asleep.

But, knowing how anxious Jane was for tomorrow, Thor had a feeling that he knew just where to find her.

-o-

As he climbed the stairs to the roof, he realized just how long it had been. In the beginning -- indeed, for much of his first year on Earth -- their time on the roof had been a near nightly occurrence. But with time, they had had less opportunities together in this manner. It was the natural way of things, Thor supposed. With Jane’s increasingly demanding schedule and with the way they had settled so naturally into their time together.

He hadn’t even thought to miss it, at least not until he got up to the top and saw her.

She was amazing, his Jane Foster. And he knew it was presumptuous to even think that way. Not that there was any doubt as to her beauty, but that she was _his._ Thor had once controlled the forces of nature, so perhaps it was natural for him to think he had such power still, but Jane Foster was unpredictable like a thunderstorm. True, she did not rage like thunder, but the light in her eyes flashed like lightning, and her mind worked like a deluge, until all else was drowned out.

He was still enthralled by that, even after all this time.

But he had never controlled it.

No, now all he could do was stand back and appreciate it, hoping to stand close enough to reap the benefits.

She looked back from where she was seated around the small fire. “Hey!” she said. “I was going to ask you up here, but you looked so comfortable.”

He walked over to her, sitting down in the seat next to her. “I feel bad that I dozed off unexpectedly,” he said. “I intended to stay awake for you.”

She knitted her brows together apologetically. “I’m sorry I got so busy,” she said. “This whole thing just got away from me--”

“You don’t need to explain,” he said gently. “I understand.”

“I know you do,” she said. She laughed, turning her eyes back to the sky. “I honestly don’t know why or how, but I know you do.”

Thor followed her gaze, looking vaguely at the expanse of stars. “I had thought maybe you were tired of being up here,” he said, giving her another look. “It seems as though we no longer meet in this manner.”

“Oh, I know,” she said. “But that’s not by choice. Things just get so busy. Sometimes it’s easy to forget what it’s all about.”

Thor nodded, watching her as discreetly as he could. “The stars?” he prompted.

She looked at him, a little surprised. “Yeah,” she said. She nodded back up at the sky again. “I mean, all the things I’ve managed to accomplish, and this is what it is still all about.”

He sat back thoughtfully. “You have charted them all,” he said. “You know them each. Do you not grow weary of seeing the same things?”

“I see the same things, but not in the same way,” she said. “The more I look, the more I think about what I don’t know.”

“And is that not worse?” Thor asked. “Seeing the problems you can’t solve.”

“Just because I haven’t solved them doesn’t mean they can’t be solved,” she said. “It’s not even that they’re problems. No, it’s like... they’re opportunities, you know? I look up and I see the things we _might_ discover.”

She sighed contentedly, gaze still turned upward.

“Everything I accomplish just seems to pale in comparison,” she said with a small shrug. “Because when I think about what there is still to learn…”

She trailed off for a moment before looking at him.

“I just have to keep my eyes fixed on what matters,” she said. “No matter what happens, I have to stay focused on that. You know?”

Thor didn’t completely understand her passion for the stars. Nor would he ever be so truly infatuated by science.

But, watching her look up, he still knew exactly what she was talking about. Because, all bravado aside, she was still the thing that had turned his exile into something different entirely. He could not be so conceited, after all. Not when he still owed her more than he would probably ever be able to repay.

Not when he loved her the way he did.

“Yes,” he said, drawing closer to her. “I think I do.”

She leaned into him as he settled an arm around her shoulders. He rubbed a hand over her shoulder, pressing his nose into her hair for a moment. They stayed tucked together for a while longer still, Jane with her eyes up to the stars.

And Thor, as always, with his eyes on her.

-o-

Thor was up early in the morning, making coffee and breakfast. Darcy, for once, was prompt on her arrival, with a whole host of bags behind her.

“It’s only a week!” Jane said, looking somewhat concerned.

“Uh, I know,” Darcy said. “I was going to bring more.”

Jane made a face. “What do you think we’re going to be doing there?”

“You, I’m sure, are going to be doing something very science-y and boring,” she said. “I, on the other hand, intend to make friends with millionaires. Lots of them.”

“Darcy, this is a technology event,” she said.

“That’s just what we’re telling Thor, right?”

Jane groaned.

Thor ate a pancake almost in a single bite. “I trust both of you will have a fantastic time.”

Jane looked uneasy. “I’m not so sure--”

Darcy started to protest, but Thor leaned forward, resting a reassuring hand on Jane’s shoulder. “Please, Jane,” he said. “You’re going to have a great time.”

“But I feel like you should be coming,” she said. “I wouldn’t have gotten this far if not for you.”

“Of course you would have,” Thor said. “Perhaps even further, had I had preoccupied so much of your attention.”

“It’s not like that,” Jane said.

“Isn’t it?” Thor asked.

“Everything changed that night,” Jane said. “For all of us.”

“And two years later, here we are,” Thor said, smiling grandly.

Jane collected a breath and then smiled herself. “Here we are.”

Thor patted her fingers one last time. “Trust me,” he said. “Everything will be _fine._ ”

She held his gaze, nodding faintly as he willed her to agree.

“Good,” he said, getting to his feet again. “Now, who would like more eggs?”

-o-

Thor had offered to take them to the airport -- that was a thing, he had learned, that loved ones did for one another, and he had been quite fond of the idea -- but apparently the Stark Expo was a big deal. They were sending a car.

That had seemed nice.

Except the car that arrived was nothing short of a limousine.

Granted, at first glance, the large vehicle was actually somewhat unimpressive to Thor. The long body was sleek, but it was still a primitive automobile with a few meager amenities. On Asgard, Thor had been used to golden chariots with intricate carvings.

All that aside, he had been told that limousines had a minibar inside, which Thor thought was a fascinating idea. With the private interior, Thor imagined riding in such a vehicle would indeed have some perks that even a man accustomed to Asgardian decadence could appreciate.

Suddenly, the _nice_ idea made Thor feel relatively small.

“Seriously,” Jane explained to the driver. “There must be some mistake.”

“No, Dr. Foster,” the driver assured her. “Mr. Stark believes in treating his keynote speakers with the utmost care.”

“But I was literally a last-minute substitution,” Jane protested.

“Not that we’re complaining,” Darcy said, bouncing on her feet a bit while she gazed longingly at the limo. “Jane is kind of a big deal.”

 

Jane shook her head. “That’s not the point--”

The driver smiled politely. “I assure you, Dr. Foster,” he said. “Mr. Stark insists on showing you the respect and comfort you deserve. He looks forward to hearing all about your ideas, and he is grateful that you have chosen this venue to share your work on a wider platform.”

Jane gaped for a moment. “I -- um--”

Darcy slipped by her. “Well, you can tell Mr. Stark that he is very, very welcome,” she said, ducking into the open door.

The driver inclined his head, holding his hand open as a gesture to Jane to follow suit.

Jane closed her mouth, clearly frazzled. Thor came closer to her, slipping a hand around her waist. “It is a thoughtful gesture,” he said. “And one you clearly deserve.”

She glanced up at him, almost nervous. “This is about the _science._ ”

“Jane,” Thor said patiently. “Science or not, your work is a form of greatness. Enjoy the honor when it is bestowed upon you.”

“I just…,” Jane started, but trailed off. “It’s just hard to think of it being at that point, I guess. This isn’t something that ever just _ends._ There’s always more to do.”

“All the more reason to stop and take a moment while you can,” Thor said. “It is one car ride.”

Jane looked longingly at the awaiting limo.

Bending down, Thor kissed her. “Go,” he said. “Before Darcy drinks all the complimentary beverages.”

From inside, Darcy called, “I heard that!”

Jane rolled her eyes. She looked at Thor. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said.

She nodded. “I’ll call you, okay?”

“Just have a good time,” he said.

She stood on her toes, kissing him again. “Feel free to call!”

He waved at her as she climbed inside. “Enjoy yourself!”

The driver closed the door, and loaded up the bags. He nodded to Thor before getting inside himself. Thor stood on the sidewalk, and though he could not see through the tinted windows, he waved anyway.

Then he stood, watching as the limo pulled out and down the street. He stood there until it turned a corner and the faintest sounds of its ignition were gone.

Alone, he sighed, turning back toward the lab.

A week, he reminded himself.

It was just a week.

-o-

Thor still had much to do. He readied himself and went to work, checking his phone with a smile when he got word from Jane that they had landed safely. He discussed matters with his coworkers before returning home. He considered a quiet meal, but his presence had been insisted upon at the diner, and Thor was not one to disappoint.

Dinner turned into dessert, which turned into coffee. He stayed until late in the evening, and before heading home, he volunteered to help with some of the stocking in back. Back at the lab, he tidied up briefly, though without Jane or Darcy present, he found that there was far less work to do. With his spare time, he watched a little TV before settling down with a book in bed.

The next day, Jose had invited him over after work. Ricky took him out for drinks the following day. He fielded texts from Jane and talked to her each night, listening to her go on about the people she’d met and the things she’d seen.

“How are things with you?” she asked, after sharing details about her meeting with Pepper Potts. “Everything going okay?”

“Everything is fine,” Thor said, filling in a few more squares of his Sudoku puzzle.

“Not too lonely?” Jane asked. “The lab can get a little creepy when it’s too quiet.”

Thor chuckled. “Not in the least,” he said. “I have spent a great deal of time out with friends.”

“That’s good,” Jane said. “I just worry about you there.”

“You have no need,” Thor said. “Truly, I have been having a wonderful time. Plus it is quite nice to be able to watch the sporting events as loudly and as long as I like without you or Darcy complaining.”

“I’m not that bad,” Jane protested.

“Do we really wish to argue this point?” Thor asked wryly.

“Okay, fine,” Jane relented. “I’m glad there are some perks then.”

“I tell you honestly,” Thor said. “I haven’t had much cause to miss you at all.”

“Well, then,” Jane said. “Way to make a girl feel loved.”

“That is not what I meant--”

“I know, I know,” Jane replied. “But seriously, I’m glad things are going okay.”

“There was never any doubt,” Thor said, doodling in the margin of his Sudoku book. “I have been more concerned with you. Do you think you will meet Tony Stark? The Iron Man?”

“I don’t know!” Jane said. “Ms. Potts made it sound like a possibility, but he’s got so much to do--”

“He should have more than enough time for you,” Thor said resolutely, drawing a line of stick figure warriors, each more astute than the last.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Jane started.

“I do,” Thor interjected, putting his pencil down. “Unequivocally.”

“You may be a little biased,” Jane said.

“Why? Because I recognize your astute brilliance and choose to acknowledge all that you have to offer this planet?”

“Because you’re my boyfriend.”

“Ah,” Thor said, picking up the pencil again. “Of that, I am most definitely guilty, though I fail to see your point.”

Jane laughed. “I miss you.”

“And I you,” Thor said.

“Just a few more days,” Jane added, trying to buoy some enthusiasm into her tone.

“Please,” Thor said. “Do not worry about me.”

“It’s not the same without you,” she said. “I miss you.”

Thoughtful, Thor put the pencil down once more, sitting up a little straighter. “Where are you?”

“On the bed,” Jane said. “Darcy just stepped out--”

“Can you get to the window?”

“Um, I guess--”

Thor was on his feet, crossing across the room. He opened the back door, stepping out into the cool night. “Go to the window,” he said.

There was a rustling over the line. “Okay, okay, I’m at the window.”

“Now,” Thor said. “What do you see?”

“Um, buildings,” Jane said. “The skyline--”

“No,” Thor said. “Look _up_. And tell me what you see.”

There was a pause. “The stars,” Jane said. “I see the stars.”

“As do I,” Thor said, staring up at the glittering expanse. “We may be far apart, but we still share this, Jane. Just as we always do.”

It was quiet for a moment, and even over the phone, he could hear her breathing. “You should be here, Thor,” she said finally.

“Just look up,” he said, as reverent as a promise. “And I always am.”

-o-

For most of the week, Thor kept himself quite busy. Between his work and tending the lab, there was still plenty to preoccupy him, and with the forward thinking of his friends, he was not wanting for attention. He missed Jane and Darcy, to be most certain, but he felt a certain satisfaction in managing affairs on his own.

All this time he had spent on Earth, and he was just now realizing he could stand on his own two feet. He was much indebted to Jane, but there was no doubt in his mind he could survive in this existence without her. He was no longer a warrior, but neither was he so cowed by the fight.

It was a different kind of confidence. One that grew from actual worth.

He did not need a hammer to tell that to him.

Not when it was a truth, he knew, deep inside.

His father had punished him not for pride, but for self-indulgent ego. His father had punished him not for failure, but for poor decisions.

This was no longer the case.

Nor would it ever be again.

-o-

With his confidence at a new found high, Thor tackled ever more ambitious tasks. He started to study plumbing; he took up jogging. He learned to cook Indian food, and he fixed a hole in his favorite t-shirt all by himself. He waved to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s operative, and taught himself how to improve his vocal range. He tried line dancing and mastered several more tenses in Spanish.

And then he applied for a management position at work.

Nonetheless, Jane still fretted during their nightly phone calls. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

Thor would only laugh as he reassured her once again.

-o-

All was well.

In anticipation of Jane’s return, Thor had scrubbed the floors and installed two new filing cabinets to fit the work that Jane had overflowing from her current storage solutions. He was contemplating adding a new coat of paint to the walls -- just to brighten things up -- when he got the call.

He recognized it immediately, since he had Jane’s number set to a special ringer.

“Jane!” he said when he answered. “I did not expect to hear from you until later--”

“I--” Jane started. “Thor, hi.”

Even without seeing her, he still knew the sound of her voice. There was something different, something just slightly off. There was no hint of peril, but the anxiety was plain. He put down his paint swatches and looked up in concern. “Is everything all right?”

“What?” she asked, far too quickly. “Yes, of course. I mean, yes. Everything’s fine.”

It was not a lie -- at least not exactly. But Jane was keeping something from him. “Jane,” he said. “Something is troubling you. Did your final presentation go well?”

“Yes,” she said, and in that she sounded more than a little certain. “It went great, actually. Really, really good.”

“That is excellent!” he said. “I had no doubts.”

“It went better than I thought possible,” she admitted. “And I mean, Stark was there--”

“Tony Stark?” Thor asked. “The Iron Man?”

“Yeah,” Jane said. “And he thought my theory could work. Like, really.”

“Well, of course he did,” Thor said. “Your work is brilliant.”

“Thor,” Jane said, her voice funny. “I--”

Thor cocked his head. “What is it?”

“Stark didn’t just think it could work,” she said. “He wants to give me the resources to build a prototype. He wants to take my theory and turn it into a reality.”

Thor stopped. “Jane--” he started.

“I told him that I’d have to work from Puente Antiguo, of course,” she said, all in a rush now. “And he agreed, like, completely. He’ll double my grant money, and we’ll be able to expand and hire more staff, and if all goes well, we should have a working prototype within a year.”

In disbelief, Thor laughed. “That is excellent news!” he said. “You must be--”

“But I have to help get it started,” Jane cut him off, voice wavering a little now. “I mean, there’s paperwork and legalese, and we have to establish a working branch at Stark Industries out here in southern California--”

“Jane,” Thor said. “I don’t understand--”

“Which means I have to stay here,” she blurted. “Just for a little longer. I have to stay here.”

The words were clear enough, and their meaning was not ambiguous. And yet, as Thor stood alone in the lab, he found himself struggling with Jane’s intentions.

“It’d be another two weeks,” Jane said, trying to sound upbeat. “Maybe a month.”

“You have to stay,” Thor said. “You’re going to stay in southern California.”

“Not for long,” Jane reiterated. “Just long enough to get this started, and then I’m coming home, I swear.”

Thor frowned, turning the other way. A week, he had told himself. A week had not been so bad.

What was another week after that?

And another?

What of Thor’s confidence? Was it not more than bravado? Was he not still the same person as he was this morning? Competent and calm and happy?

Over the line, Jane’s breathing tightened. “Thor?”

“Of course,” he said, somehow finding the words. “You should of course stay.”

“It’s not permanent,” she said. “And, I mean, I could fly back to visit soon or buy you a ticket to visit--”

“Jane,” he said, somehow finding the willpower for a diffident laugh. “Your work is very important. This opportunity is one that must be pursued. You hardly have time for visitors--”

“But I miss you already,” she said.

“And you will see me when you get back,” he said. “And we will continue to talk. Everything will be fine.”

“I don’t know, Thor,” she said. “This all happened so fast. I mean, I was giving my presentation, and then Tony Stark was talking about making it happen, and then I was meeting with Pepper Potts, and I don’t know what happened.”

“I know exactly what happened,” Thor said. “You spoke your mind. You shared your ideas. And I am not at all surprised that others wanted to invest themselves in you.”

“You’re being so understanding,” she said. “I’m a horrible girlfriend, and you’re being _so understanding_.”

He smiled. “Did I not tell you?” he said. “That I could not give you the stars, but that I would stand with you until you discovered them for yourself?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice becoming small.

“And this is it,” he said. “This is your opportunity.”

She drew a breath and let it out heavily. “Two weeks,” she said with finality. “I’m coming home in two weeks.”

“And I will be here,” he said. “Ready to welcome you back with open arms.”

-o-

Nothing had changed.

Jane was coming home, just a little later than he had anticipated. He still had his work, and he still had his friends. He still talked to Jane each night and exchanged texts with Darcy.

And he had projects to do.

He mastered the subjunctive tense in Spanish. He finished _Titus Andronicus_. He listened to an entire opera. He painted the lab.

It was all very good.

Thor told everyone who asked.

And most of the time, he believed it was true.

-o-

Still, there were moments. When he set to make breakfast and only had to crack four eggs. When he wanted to make meatloaf but could not see the point in feeding only himself. When he had voicemail messages from all his friends, but all he could do was think about bar hopping with Darcy.

When he lay awake at night, missing the sound of her voice, the feel of her hair, the touch of her hand on his face.

He was Thor.

He was worthy.

He was strong and confident and capable.

None of these things, though, were the ones that mattered. Because Thor could be all that and more; but he was also lonely.

Cast out, rejected, and left behind: it mattered not the means.

Just the end.

Where Thor stood alone.

-o-

One week became two.

Thor stopped doing the dishes every night, for there seemed to be little point. He found he could not do laundry for days at a time and there was no one to know. He did not get dressed on Saturdays, and he had not put the furniture back in place after finishing painting the lab.

Two weeks became three.

He declined invitations out with his friends, and thanked Martha for her generosity but could barely finish her baked goods, no matter how many she gave him. He even started to leave the toilet seat up, and braided his hair to avoid caring for it as meticulously as he once had.

After a month, Jane sighed on the phone. “I have a plane ticket for next week,” she said. “I swear. No matter what Stark says, I’m coming home.”

Thor closed his eyes and worked to control his breathing.

“Do you hear me, Thor?” she asked. “I’m coming home.”

He managed a thin, watery smile. “That is good news,” he said. “Very good news.”

-o-

Though Thor made himself a good dinner, he found himself to be lacking in appetite. 

He tried watching a game on television, but was too distracted to enjoy it. 

He sat listlessly with a book in his lap, but when he found that he had read the same page half a dozen times, he gave up.

Thor gave up on everything.

It was not that his confidence was wavering, for he was entirely self-sufficient. But there was more to life than a series of tasks. His worth was more than a list of accomplishments. If his value was not determined by circumstance, then at the very least his happiness was.

Feeling vacant, Thor retreated to the one place he had avoided this entire time. On the roof, the night was clear with stars standing countless against the inky night.

Though he had spent much time up here, it had been quite some months since he had truly looked. He had long since shared all his knowledge with Jane, and though she liked to speculate on the farthest reaches of all the realms, he had been so preoccupied on Jane to look up with her.

That was not entirely the truth, however. Indeed, Thor did prefer to spend his time focused on Jane, but he also saw no need to look up for what it represented. For Jane, it was possibility. For Thor, it was loss.

Tonight, however, Thor looked up.

And he saw.

He saw the stars and the galaxies. But he saw more than that.

There, he thought, were the Warriors Three. Volstagg was laughing, one of his children perched upon his knee. As for Fandral, he nursed a drink, guiding a beautiful woman by his side. Hogun was training studiously, looking chagrined at the exploits of his comrades. Sif, though, outdid them all, moving seamlessly between her armor and her elegant dress, eyes still turned out as if waiting for Thor to return.

And what of Loki? Had he flourished in Thor’s absence? Had he taken his place as the crowned prince, to be most beloved by the people? Had they finally seen what Thor had known all along, that Loki was smart and capable and clever, that his magic was an asset and not a weakness.

He wondered if his mother still grieved, if his father ever looked down in regret. Did Heimdall report back all that Thor had done or did the guard turn his eye from Thor as well? Was he truly alone in his exile?

Though, he had to reflect, if any of that were even possible. It could just as easily be that there was no time to reflect; that there was no ability to look back. The Warriors Three could be dispatched to the front lines, risking their lives for Thor’s mistakes. And Sif, the noblest warrior of them all, would not rest until all threats were vanquished, even if it cost her life.

It was impossible to say the toll this would take on Loki. He had never been keen on battle, not like Thor was, but that was not to assume he performed poorly. No, in the heat of conflict, Thor trusted his brother more than all the rest. Loki’s cunning could end a battle before it started.

Indeed, it probably should have, if not for Thor’s impulsive nature.

The prolonged conflict, however, if it lingered still. It would weigh on Loki’s soul, and there would be no one to serve as his counsel. Would Loki find a better confidante? Would Loki turn the dark into golden sun before this cruel hour was over?

How many of Asgard’s best would fall? Would his father march off to war and leave his wife worried in his absence? What would happen to Thor’s people? Would the ice of Jotunheim threaten to freeze the sun-lit halls of Odin’s palace?

What horror had Thor unleashed? What legacy had Thor created? Would they remember him at all?

These thoughts were not new, but he had not allowed himself to dwell on them. Alone, though, he found himself unable to keep them at bay. For in the stars, Thor could only imagine the destruction he’d left; for his people, for his friends, for his family.

For the galaxy.

And what of him? What of Thor? So small and forgotten? Exiled and lost? What right did he have to even wonder of such things? What vanity did he assume to think he mattered now at all? Whatever Loki and the rest were doing, it was no business of Thor’s. Asgard’s fate, while his fault, was no longer his responsibility for it was not his home.

Thor was not going to return.

Not in a year, not in two years. Not in three or five or ten or twenty. Not in all the years of his now fleeting life.

_This_ was home.

This was _home._

A small, overlooked planet, full of small, overlooked people.

Thor was not here to rule or conquer. He was not here to defend or protect.

He was here to live.

He was to build relationships with people, to build a career, to build a _life._

It was ironic, then, that Thor had always been gifted with the most powerful hammer in all the realms. He could use it now, to build himself a home.

It was no matter, however.

Because Thor was more than a hammer.

And he was going to prove it.

-o-

Thor did not sleep that night.

Nor did he sleep much the night after that or the night after that. He was no longer listless, however. His mind was consumed now, every free moment preoccupied. He was nearly distracted at work, so consumed that he barely managed to be conversational at the diner. He worked out twice as long as he intended some mornings, so lost in thought as he was.

When Jane called each night, he was glad to hear her voice, even if keeping secrets was difficult for him.

“You sound different,” Jane finally said.

“To the contrary,” Thor said. “Everything is very much the same.”

Jane laughed, as if she couldn’t quite come up with an argument to that even if she wanted to. “Well, I’ll be home tomorrow.”

“And you’re sure I cannot meet you at the airport?” Thor asked.

“No,” Jane said. “Stark’s got another driver for us. I was going to say no, but Darcy begged.”

“Well, you wouldn’t want to disappoint Darcy,” Thor agreed.

“I think she would stay here, if I wanted to,” Jane said. “I’m a little surprised she’s actually willing to go back.”

“Darcy may speak ill of Puente Antiguo and her job with you, but I think time has proven her to be a loyal ally,” Thor mused.

“Yeah, you didn’t see her here,” Jane said.

“But I will see you both tomorrow, will I not?” Thor asked.

“You will,” Jane said. “You definitely, definitely will. I can’t even believe how long it’s been.”

“This was important to you,” Thor said.

“It was better than I could have imagined,” Jane said. “I just -- it’s not the same without you. I miss you. A lot.”

Thor smiled. “And I, you,” he said. “Now, really, you should get some rest.”

Jane groaned. “But I want to see you _now._ ”

“The sooner you sleep, the sooner it will seem that you are home,” Thor lectured her patiently.

“Maybe I can get an earlier flight,” Jane suggested.

“Jane,” Thor said. “I will see you when you get back. You have my word.”

She inhaled and then let it out. “I’m counting on that.”

-o-

After hanging up, Thor looked at the phone fondly. One more day. He had so longed to see Jane, to hold her in his arms and kiss her, and there was just one more day.

He glanced at the clock; it was quite late.

Which meant Thor had much to do.

And just one day left to do it.

-o-

With all he had been doing, Thor had let the housework slip even further. He hated to admit it, but he needed to spend a good portion of the night tidying up and cleaning. He wanted everything to be spotless for Jane’s return. He wanted everything to be _perfect_.

If that meant he had to clean the toilets and scrub the sinks, then so be it.

Thor was ready to do anything.

That was no exaggeration. Nor was it a figure of speech. It was a simple truth, and Thor would make that very clear soon enough.

-o-

Thor was waiting when she arrived. 

At first, he had thought not to be too conspicuous. After all, he had taken such pride in being his own man; the thought of looking desperate while waiting at the door seemed to run contrary to the entire image Thor had tried to cultivate in Jane’s absence.

That said, however, he did miss Jane.

A lot.

He could not find enough shame to keep himself from waiting at the window, trying to be patient.

He had tracked her flight online, so he knew when it landed, and he did not know much of this Tony Stark except that he seemed to be among the elite in Earth’s society. Given the generous accommodations afforded to Jane so far, Thor could only imagine that her return drive would be prompt and comfortable.

That was his hope, anyway. Since he was going to wait by the window regardless of how efficiently Tony Stark’s car service might be.

Besides, Thor knew too much of loss to cling too stubbornly to pride. He had once been the god of thunder.

Now, however, he was a man who missed his girlfriend.

If there was shame in that, Thor would endure it.

That was, perhaps, one advantage of his lowly position. No one cared to judge him here. Thor only had to satisfy himself.

And he would not be satisfied until Jane Foster was home, then so be it.

-o-

As it was, he did muster enough willpower not to greet her at the curb. Instead, he watched as the limousine pulled up and he was standing dutifully by the door when Jane disembarked from the oversized cab. The driver was removing bags from the trunk, but Jane seemed to pay him no heed.

For when she stepped onto the street, she turned, looking straight at Thor.

There was a moment, a small, suspended second, wherein their eyes met. The time and the distance faded; it was as if she had not been gone at all.

It was the look in her eyes, after all. The first thing he remembered seeing when he opened his eyes on Earth. It had not been the stars, nor had it been the dusty ground. It had not been the car which had hit him or Darcy or Selvig or anything else.

It had been Jane Foster.

She was his home, more than anything else.

Her face broke into a smile, and she took off toward him. In two steps, Thor was out the front door and he pulled her readily into his arms. He spun her once, lifting her fully off the ground, and when he came to a stop, she pushed herself up into a kiss.

Thor held back a moan, running his hands up her back and into her hair. She kissed without abandon, her body hot against his until the world around them seemed to disappear.

When she finally pulled away, she looked up at him, breathless and grinning.

Eyes gleaming, he said, “Welcome home, Jane.”

“It’s good to be back,” she replied.

“Yeah,” Darcy said. “I’m sure you’re all glad I’m back, too.”

Reddening slightly, Thor let go of Jane, stepping back just a little. Suddenly a bit more self-possessed, Jane fussed with her hair.

Darcy rolled her eyes. “I assume you’re going to tip the dude?” she asked, hauling one of her bags toward the door. “Someone? Anyone? Bueller?”

Clearing his throat, Thor reached into his pocket and retrieved his wallet. Jane shook her head, digging into her purse. “No, no, let me,” she said.

“It’s not a problem--”

“Really,” Jane said. “It was my conference after all.”

“But I am very grateful for his service in returning you to me,” Thor said.

“Well,” Jane said, handing a few bills to the driver. “We’ll see what other ways we can use your gratitude.”

Thor was not sure what that meant.

But he liked the sound of that very much.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationships were a delicate balance of give and take, but he could not take what the other person was not willing to give. It was not a question of love, for he knew Jane loved him very much. It was about accepting Jane exactly the way she was, even when it was difficult or inconvenient.

It had taken a good amount of time to unload the vehicle. When it was finished, the main room in the lab was cluttered so badly that it was impossible to tell just how thoroughly Thor had cleaned.

“I did not think you took so much with you,” he commented while Darcy collapsed on the couch.

“We didn’t,” Jane said, edging anxiously towards her lab space. “But, you know, we only packed for a week.”

“And we were giving a stipend for living expenses,” Darcy said.

“I still have most of mine,” Jane said, starting to power up some of the equipment.

“I don’t,” Darcy said. “But it was well worth it, trust me.”

“You could have done laundry,” Jane said.

“And missed the opportunity to shop at stores that aren’t designed for people over the age of sixty?” Darcy asked. “My laziness was only part of the motivation.”

Jane rolled her eyes. “Anyway,” she said. “We’ll have to get the equipment up and running soon. We were lucky enough to have access to Stark’s labs while we were there to keep up with the collection and collation, but we haven’t been able to install the software needed for refined analysis of--”

“Oh, come on,” Darcy groaned. “We literally just got back.”

“But it’s been a month,” Jane protested.

“Of work,” Darcy said. “It was a month of work.”

“You hardly did anything except flirt with interns and go shopping,” Jane said.

“I know!” Darcy said, putting her arms dramatically over her head. “That is the most work I’ve done in _years._ ”

Thor laughed. “Your presence has been sorely missed,” he said. “Both of you.”

“Well,” Jane said. “I don’t plan on leaving any time soon.”

“Which is why we can take the night off,” Darcy whined.

“But the sooner we get back up--”

Darcy groaned loudly again, drowning out the rest of Jane’s statement..

Thor looked at Jane sympathetically. “I would very much like to spend some time with you.”

Jane hesitated, but straightened away from her work station. “I know,” she said. “I’m a horrible girlfriend.”

“No,” Thor said. “You are merely a dedicated scientist.”

“Do not encourage her!” Darcy declared from the sofa, flopping an arm over her eyes.

“One night,” Thor said. “I promise it will be worth your while.”

Jane drew a breath, and nodded with a newfound fortitude. “I promised myself I wouldn’t work tonight anyway,” she admitted. “But seeing the equipment, just sitting there!”

“Very well then,” Thor said. “We will simply have to go out.”

Darcy perked up at that, moving her arm from over her face. 

Jane considered it.

“You did say I needed to express my gratitude,” he said. “Let me start by taking you both out to dinner.”

“Ugh, yeah,” Jane said, stepping away from the station entirely. “I need to get away from work.”

“Thank you!” Darcy exclaimed.

“We can get started first thing tomorrow anyway,” Jane said.

“Perfect!” Thor said.

“Totally amazing,” Darcy intoned, though she sounded less than enthusiastic.

“Don’t complain,” Jane said. “I’m letting you tag along on a date with my boyfriend.”

“He invited me,” Darcy said, brow furrowed.

“He was being polite,” Jane told her with a smirk. “Third wheel.”

Darcy looked perturbed, but she got to her feet nonetheless. “Unfortunately for you, I have no pride in this area,” she said. “This third wheel is ready to roll.”

-o-

At first, Thor had considered taking Jane and Darcy to the next town, where the dining options were more extravagant. However, he had noticed during their conversation in her absence that she had eaten widely an exotically. Though Tony Stark was not royalty, he clearly understood the burden of being a generous host much like Thor had learned in the halls of Asgard. Guests were treated to feasts and succulent delicacies. To which end, Jane would not likely be in need of something decadent.

Nor would she want to travel far.

No, Jane would want the comfortable and familiar.

This made the diner the perfect option.

It made Jane quite happy.

It also made everyone else quite happy.

Thor was not the only one who had missed Jane. The locals fawned over her, providing prompt service and soliciting information about her journey to California. By the time they were eating their pie, Thor had barely gotten a word in edgewise.

Even so, he found he could not complain. It was something indeed just to watch her. To see her smile; to hear her voice.

“I hadn’t realized anyone would notice I was gone!” Jane said; voice hushed as she slid her fork through her cherry pie and ice cream.

“You are quite popular,” Thor said, enjoying a piece of banana cream.

“And this town is so tiny that it is desperate for news,” Darcy added.

“At any rate, we are all glad you are home,” Thor said. He paused to take a drink. “You still feel good about your progress, then?”

“Good?” Jane asked around a mouthful of pie. “The more I think about it, the more I can hardly believe it happened. The grant money had been good the last two years, but being backed by Tony Stark? That gives me more tools and more exposure. This whole thing, it’s going mainstream. I can’t tell you how often I’ve felt like a nut job sometimes.”

“Now you’re a nut job with a following,” Darcy said.

Jane hardly acknowledged her. “It’s just been galvanizing,” she continued, eyes alight with passion. “Plus, I still have the autonomy I need to do things my way. I really think I can make this happen.”

“Of course you can,” Thor said. “I have never had any doubt, and it is to Tony Stark’s benefit that he can recognize brilliance when he is faced with it.”

“He’s surprisingly scientific minded,” Jane said. “I always knew he was good, just considering the scope of his Iron Man suits, but he’s always seemed so cocky and, I don’t know, he got his start in weapons--”

“The past is not always a clear indication of the future,” Thor reminded her. “Perhaps Tony Stark has learned.”

“Tony Stark has enough money that learning is a luxury,” Darcy said, then sighed. “I want to go back.”

Jane finished another bite, shrugging her shoulders. “But anyway,” she said. “Enough about me. What about you? You’ve been awfully quiet on the phone recently. What have you been up to?”

“You know the things my life entails,” Thor said, slicing off another bite.

“Usually you hang out with us a lot,” Jane said. “Surely you didn’t spend all your free time reading or doing Sudoku.”

Thor chuckled. “I have completed all the works of William Shakespeare, if that is what you mean.”

“Wow,” Darcy said. “That’s sad.”

“You did more than that,” Jane said.

“Well, perhaps,” Thor said with a noncommittal shrug.

Jane waited a moment. “Like what?”

He shook his head, eating the last bite of his pie. “That is a conversation for later, I believe,” he declared. “I want to hear about your prototype.”

It was an obvious point of distraction, but he knew Jane. And he knew how much she loved her work. Even if she recognized his ploy, she was too excited to ignore it. “Well,” she said. “I hadn’t fully anticipated the power matrix I would need, which is why collaborating with Stark Industries is so genius. We have some preliminary specifications already, but I need to tweak some--”

Darcy groaned. “Oh, come on,” she said. “I just sat through meetings like this for a month.”

“But he asked!” Jane said.

“And science!” Darcy intoned sarcastically. “I’m going to see if they’ll serve me a beer.”

Darcy started to flag down the waitress, and Jane shrugged, leaning in as she continued. “I’ve had to change the overall parameters, which means I’ll have to do some more testing, but I think it’ll work. I really, really do.”

Thor sat back, sipping on his water while he listened to Jane go on. Her technical discussion was more than he could fully grasp, but he found that it did not matter.

Not when she was sitting there, across from him.

Not when she was back.

Not when they were together.

He did not need Jane Foster, perhaps.

But he did indeed want her very much.

-o-

After dinner, Thor helped Darcy collect her things before taking her back to her home. Although Thor bid her a fond farewell for the evening, Darcy seemed too unmotivated to offer him more than a meager hand wave in return.

“She really did enjoy herself there,” Thor concluded, watching until she was safely inside.

“That would be an understatement,” Jane said. 

Thor looked to Jane. “And you,” he said. “Are you sure you do not regret coming home?”

Jane laughed, as though she thought Thor was joking. When his earnest expression did not change, she shook her head. “Thor,” she said. “I told you. I missed home.”

“But your work could have flourished there,” he said. “You spoke yourself of how much this Tony Stark had to offer you.”

“I guess,” Jane said.

“I know how important your work is to you,” Thor added.

“That’s it, though,” she said. “That’s the thing. I know you think I saved your life or whatever, but you’ve given me just as much as I’ve given you.”

He wrinkled his forehead. “I do not see how--”

“You gave me a life, Thor,” she said. “Before you came, I was all about science. That was all I cared about. That was all I did.”

“Well, your work is very important.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Jane said. “My work is still very, very important to me, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world, but that can’t be the only thing in my life. I don’t _want_ it to be the only thing in my life. I want friends; I want family; I want a home. Before you arrived, the lab was just a lab, and the trailer was just a place I slept. Now, though. Now it’s more than where I live. It’s a part of me. It’s my home. Stark Industries can do a lot for me, but it can’t give me that.”

Her words were not so much as a surprise as a welcomed confirmation. In his loneliness, he had wondered how she had fared, if she had truly missed him as much as he missed her. Such thoughts were small and petty and should have been beneath him, but Thor was human, after all.

He smiled, putting the car into gear again. “I am glad to hear that,” he said. “Because I have something to show you.”

-o-

She eyed him curiously the whole drive home, and though she did not come out and ask, it was clear that she very much wanted to know.

“I got you a few things, too, you know,” she said as he parked the car.

“Oh?” Thor asked, opening his door.

“A few souvenirs that made me think of you,” she said. “For some reason I decided you’d probably like squashed pennies.”

He looked at her over the car.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I also bought you a stuffed whale.”

“Because I like whales?” Thor asked.

“Okay, I admit, I just thought of you a lot and bought the first thing I saw,” Jane said. “There’s a reason I’ve never won an award for girlfriend of the year.”

Thor chuckled, unlocking the door to the lab. “Well, my surprise is different than such things,” he said, holding the door open for her.

She went inside, dutifully ignoring her still packed bags. “I think you’d have a hard time finding a squashed penny around here.”

“I am most curious about these squashed pennies,” he said.

“Uh uh,” she said. “You first. You started this whole thing, and now I want to know.”

Laughing, he shook his head. “Very well,” he said. “Just, wait here.”

Obediently, she stood at the table, watching as he retreated back to his bedroom. Although the rest of the house was impeccable, Thor’s own room was still in a state of moderate disarray. He had repurposed a card table for a desk, which took up a good portion of his floor space. Hastily, he rolled his plans, ignoring the way his heart skipped a beat as he turned back toward the main room.

As he approached, Jane was doing her best to look nonchalant. However, her eyes were bright and zeroed in on the single roll of papers immediately.

With no fanfare, Thor laid the roll down, starting to spread it open on the surface. He used a pair of cups to hold it open on the ends before stepping back and beaming at it proudly.

“This is it?” Jane asked, bending over to take a look. “It’s…”

“A blueprint,” Thor supplied for her.

She leaned closer, eyes scanning it rapidly. “It’s a house,” she said.

“More than that,” Thor said, starting to rock on his toes expectantly. “It is a home.”

If she noted the distinction, she made no acknowledgement of it. Instead, she flipped from one page to the next with a furrowed brow. “Three bedrooms, three baths and... a lab space?” She looked at him, the question evident in her eyes.

“Yes,” Thor said with a nod. “It is not just any home. I hope it will be our home.”

For a moment, she betrayed no expression, staring at him almost blankly. “Our home?”

Thor nodded. “You own the land on the plot adjacent to the lab, which was already zoned for residential development,” he explained. “It is a somewhat modest plot of land, but there is plenty of space for a single family dwelling and a small yard. I drew up these plans based on New Mexico’s building code.”

“Wait,” she said. “You know the building code?”

“I do work in construction,” he reminded her.

“But these look like professional blueprints,” she said. “Did you consult an architect?”

Thor shrugged. “There was no need,” he said. “I have worked with blueprints for over a year now, and with a little online research, it was an easy skill to master.”

“You know most people go to school for architecture,” she said.

“You know that I spent hundreds of years with the best teachers on Asgard,” he reminded her.

She blinked at him.

“At any rate, the plans will have to be approved by a state official for compliance,” he said. “But I wanted you to see them first in order to gauge your feelings on important questions. I opted for an open layout, but I wanted to make sure there were plenty of windows, and I thought that although we have an observatory here, you would like something for your personal use as well. It would be easy to change, of course, based on your feedback.”

He trailed off, looking at her.

She looked back.

“I’m not sure how to take your lack of reaction,” Thor admitted finally. “Are you upset?”

“No,” she said. “I mean, no. But, I. Are you asking me to move in with you?”

Thor considered this for the first time. It had not been his explicit intention, although that clearly was an implication. To Thor, it had seemed like a natural extension of their relationship. He realized at that very moment, however, it was somewhat presumptuous. “The construction would take a significant amount of time,” he said. “I would only be able to work in the evenings and weekends, so we would not have to rush any decisions.”

She drew an uncertain breath. “It’s just...a lot.”

“Jane,” he said. “My feelings for you have always been plain. I have never hid my attachments to you, nor do I intend to start. If you wish our relationship to stay as it is for the rest of our lives, then that is a decision I will respect. If you ask me to leave, I would do so without argument. But, if you feel as I do, then let us start building our future together. I do not know what it will look like, but I do know that this is home. More than just another building, _this_ is home. The connection between _us._ I would like to build you this home as a testament to those feelings.”

She laughed, almost in disbelief. “You are asking me to move in with you.”

He wet his lips, suddenly nervous. “And what would your answer be?”

“Yes,” she said. “My answer is yes.”

The tension unfurled in his chest, and he came forward, sweeping her up into his arms again. He laughed, kissing her. Pulling away, he rested his forehead against her’s. “I am glad you’re home.”

She smiled warmly. “Yeah,” she agreed. “Me, too.”

-o-

It was remarkable to Thor, after his weeks of pining, how easily life slipped back into normal. He went to work: Jane and Darcy got the lab up and running. It was life as it always had been; how Thor hoped it would always be.

And yet, that was not to say that it was all the same as it was. Jane approached her work with a newfound vigor. Within days, there was a small construction crew on-site to make the necessary changes to connect Jane’s lab with Stark Industries. Thor noted their work curiously, realizing just how connected Jane now was to Tony Stark’s company. With this connectivity, he could also recognize the enhanced potential of her work. On top of the modest changes to the interior space, they also added new antennas, updated equipment and a plethora of other technical upgrades.

It kept Jane and Darcy quite preoccupied; Jane for the science, Darcy for Kevin, one of the more attractive construction crew members.

It was just as well, though. Thor was not going to pout, not when Jane was back and more accessible to him than ever. Besides, he had his own things to do.

With Jane’s feedback, Thor tweaked his floor plan, adding in small features like a rooftop balcony and a walk-in shower in the master bathroom. Darcy also offered her advice and drew in notes for surround sound speakers and recessed lighting, though he was fairly certain her suggestion for stadium seating in the living room was not a good choice for day-to-day living.

Thor was so excited about his plans that he often worked late into the night, and he and Jane both found themselves drinking copious amounts of coffee in the morning to compensate for their altered sleep schedules. They still made time for each other, though, stealing moments when they could. It was a simple as a brush of hands in the morning, the press of lips at night. They had nothing to prove to each other and everything to gain.

Normal, Thor decided, was the best kind of happiness there was.

-o-

Things got better still.

Jane’s work progressed, and she hired several new people with the infusion of funds from Tony Stark. Since much of the data could be processed remotely, their research surged ahead, and Jane was able to start working on a paper to supplement the ongoing development of a prototype. Darcy took well to this new paradigm, because she was afforded new responsibilities over her newer colleagues.

Thor enjoyed the activity of the lab, and he found it pleasurable to cook for larger groups. He picked up baking in the evenings, and soon mastered a wide array of cakes and cookies, which always seemed to disappear before the night’s end.

At his own work, Thor received good news. He was granted a promotion to supervisor, a role that afforded him a more substantial paycheck and increased responsibility on the job. This he took very seriously, studying the building plans with more care and attention, and he took great care to ensure that all of his coworkers were on task accordingly. Under Thor’s supervision, workplace productivity increased by a sizeable margin, and workplace accidents saw a noticeable decrease.

On weekends, he spent his time refining his plans, completing more research about building codes and design trends. He sought Jane’s opinion when she was available, though sometimes such moments were hard to find. Still, it was worth it to see her face light up at his more thoughtful suggestions.

“Built in shelves?” Jane asked. “That would be amazing!”

“And here,” Thor said. “Look what I did here in the master bedroom.”

She squinted, leaning forward. “Is that--”

“Skylights,” Thor concluded proudly. “So the stars can be the last thing you see when you go to sleep at night.”

Grinning, she looked at him. “I don’t know how you think of everything.”

Thor merely smiled back, hugging her close and pressing a kiss to her forehead. For he could not imagine thinking of anything less; not when time was precious, and years were few.

-o-

It was not all work, of course. He and Jane went on dates on the weekend, by mutual agreement. Jane’s work and Thor’s house plans could preoccupy them both indefinitely, but they had both learned the power of priorities.

Thor took great care in this as well. He tried new things with Jane, taking suggestions from friends and magazine articles. They went bowling; they played games; they went to movies. Thor learned about the best coffee shops in the surrounding towns and took Jane to theater productions. Sometimes they went shopping, and other times still they played frisbee golf or attempted to canoe on a nearby lake.

With everything, there was little time to look at the stars together, but Thor made sure that every Saturday they spent together on the roof, sometimes roasting marshmallows or drinking hot chocolate, but always with Jane looking up.

And Thor, with his eyes fixed on her.

-o-

It was not a particularly special day when Thor came home and found the letter waiting for him. He received various articles of mail these days, but the official address from the county office piqued his interest. It had been several weeks since he submitted his building plans and the appropriate payment, and several more before that when Thor had consulted an architect from work. All in all, it felt like a lifetime had passed since he’d first come up with the notion to build his own home, and he was restless to make progress.

Ripping the envelope open, he started reading, scanning through the letter with sweaty palms and a pounding heart. 

From across the lab, Jane looked up. “Thor, is everything okay?”

Thor swallowed; he read the letter again.

“Thor?” Jane asked.

Thor turned, beaming widely. “We were approved,” he said. “Our building plans were approved.”

“That’s great!” Jane said, moving across the room toward him. “Everything passed?”

“Every single detail,” Thor boasted.

“So we can start?” Jane asked. “We can start building our home?”

“This weekend,” Thor said. “We could start right now, if you wanted.”

She laughed. “You know, it sort of seems like we already have.”

“In many ways, I believe you are right,” Thor agreed.

“Still,” she said, beaming at him.

He smiled back. “Still.”

-o-

They broke ground that night, just the two of them after everyone had gone home. The night sky was alive and vibrant, and Thor carried the shovel while Jane brought the champagne.

He had already marked the area some weeks ago, just to get a sense of the scale, and they had moved Jane’s trailer to the area designated to become the backyard. With a rough guess, he walked to the back end of the home, where their bedroom would someday be.

“Here,” he announced, tapping the tip of the shovel on the ground. “This is where we will rest when this is all over.”

Jane chuckled. “That seems like a long time from now.”

“Not so long,” Thor said, mentally envisioning the space. He could see the California king bed with soft silk sheets, poised under the generous skylights. “Time has a funny way of moving faster than you think it will.”

She was watching him for once, and Thor found himself blushing.

“I apologize,” he said. “I am excited!”

“No, it’s great,” Jane said. “It’s so good to see you like this. To believe in something so strongly that I believe you’d do anything for it.”

“It is for us,” he said, earnestly now. “It is our home.”

She nodded warmly. “Okay, then,” she said. “Shall we?”

Thor offered her the shovel. “Would you like to make the first move?”

“Oh, no,” she said. “I have the stars; this one, it’s yours.”

Grinning, Thor nodded. He took the shovel in his hands, feeling the grip run along the familiar callouses on his palm. He had grown competent with tools, from shovels to wrenches to _hammers._

There had been a time, of course, when such a primitive device would have seemed positively quaint.

Now, however, he recognized its potential. For he could build a future, and it would take time and it would take effort, but it would be entirely his own.

Starting with this.

He dug the tip into the ground, pushing it deep beneath the surface. He used his weight to drive it deeper, than shifted his balance to prop it up, bringing a shovel full of earth with it. Tossing it to the side, he looked at the small hole. It was almost insignificant to the unknown observer, but Thor understood what it meant.

Thor understood all too well.

Jane cheered. Handing a glass of champagne to Thor, she said, “To us!”

Raising the glass, he inclined his head, meeting Jane’s gaze and holding it. “To our home!”

-o-

Thor got to work on the house as soon as possible, and soon he was devoting as much time as he could to the venture. He had secured financing for a home construction loan already, so he spent a great deal of time at the hardware store with his budgeting sheet and supply list. He was thrifty, but thorough; and he stored his equipment as securely as possible. However, he doubted anyone locally would be tempted to steal from him or Jane.

Fortunately, through his work connections, he knew many people for subcontracting, and though Thor had budgeted for every service at retail value, he found that no one would accept full payment.

“Friends and family discount,” he was told for pouring the foundation.

“For you, Thor? Please, I feel like you’re doing me a favor letting me help,” he was told for plumbing.

And his friends volunteered, one after another, to help out on weekends, which made his progress move along ahead of schedule.

Better still, it was more enjoyable that way. He liked passing the time telling jokes and stories, listening and laughing. Though he worked hard all day and then worked hard each night, he hardly felt weary for it.

It was almost as if he had found his calling. Though it did not make him ache like Mjölnir once had, he found it just as satisfying.

Almost, anyways.

With so much time removed from his previous existence, he could hardly remember.

It didn’t matter.

No, his quiet, steady work amidst the framed structure of the house, pounding in each nail and laying each board -- that was what mattered.

Thor had no doubt.

-o-

Between Thor’s construction and Jane’s science, they scarcely had time for anything else. But when he cooked her meals and reminded her to eat, she reminded him to take time for himself.

“I like building,” he said.

“Thor,” she said. “I know you. You need to work out. You need to go be social.”

“I am still doing both,” he said.

“Balance,” she said. “That’s what I’ve always lacked, and that’s what you’ve made me remember. So, you need to keep it too.”

He sighed, a little exasperated. “I’m fine--”

She narrowed her gaze at him. “Thor, you need to get out of this place much more often,” she said sternly. “It would be good if you didn’t always have a hammer in your hand.”

“Are you sure that you’re not just tired of hearing me use power tools while you’re doing advanced calculations?”

She knitted her brows together. “That’s not the point.”

“It’s not?”

“Thor!” she said. “Come on! You trust me, right?”

That, of course, was no question at all. “You know that I do.”

“Then get a hobby,” she said. “Something that gets you away from building all the time. We could build all day, every day, and never be done, I think. So make the time for yourself, and make it now.”

He regarded her thoughtfully. “And you will also take up a hobby?”

“Oh, I have to work….” She trailed off.

He raised his eyebrows.

She groaned. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll also get a hobby.”

He grinned broadly. “Deal.”

-o-

Jane, after much advice from her employees and Darcy, decided to take up fitness. Darcy had actually suggested a myriad of other things, from belly dancing to origami, and Jane had taken up a membership at the gym in order to avoid such extremes.

Thor, for his part, found the advice somewhat more difficult to take. He thought everyone had good suggestions. At the bar, he fielded suggestions that ranged from magic tricks to knitting. The art of deception intrigued him, though he knew Loki would find such a pursuit facile compared to Asgardian magic, and knitting struck him as potentially quite soothing and very productive.

There was also rock climbing, piano playing, chess, whittling: all of which Thor tried and promptly mastered within days.

No, he would need a hobby that was not so individualistic. He needed something he could continue to pursue.

“No, man,” Jose said. “You need a hobby to do _with_ people.”

“Do people knit in groups?” Thor asked.

“Maybe,” Jose said, shrugging. “But I was thinking about a sport. I’ve got a softball league that’s starting up. I’m sure I could get you in.”

The notion was unexpected. Thor knew the rules of all major earth sports, and he was, in fact, quite loyal to several teams. He enjoyed athletic feats, and he certainly relished competition.

At least, he used to. He had played many sports in Asgard, or at least the closest equivalent. He had been quite talented as well, always among the best. He had worked hard to hold in his competitive spirit during his time on Earth; but perhaps such an expression in a neutral, healthy context would not be so bad.

He nodded finally. “I think I would like that very much.”

“Great!” Jose said. “First practice will be next week.”

“Is there anything I need to prepare?” Thor asked.

“Just a glove and some cleats,” Jose said with a shrug. “I’m sure you’ll pick it up in no time.”

-o-

Thor bought a glove. Then he bought some cleats.

Then he spent two nights researching softball. He learned about competitive female leagues; he studied recreational co-ed leagues. He looked into pitching styles, batting techniques and field arrangements. He memorized the rules, watched games online and studied the history.

To be safe, he purchased several balls, a bat and a helmet. In this, he learned to swing and pitch; he learned to catch and throw.

The night of his first practice, he was anxious and eager to prove himself. He made sure his pitches were accurate and fast; he worked hard to make sure he could make the throw from the outfield to home base without a cutoff. When he took his first at bat, he hit the first pitch over the fence.

Distressed, he looked at his new teammates, who were gaping at him. “I apologize,” he said. “I am new to this--”

“No, no,” Jose said. “That’s not it, man. I mean. Did you see that?”

Thor winced, eyeing the fence. “I can retrieve it.”

“No, Thor,” Jose said, shaking his head. “You’re good. You’re really, really good.”

Thor wasn’t sure what to say.

“Forget that,” one of his new teammates said. “He’s our best player by a mile.”

“No kidding,” another agreed. “We’re going to be awesome this year.”

“Finally!” Jose cheered as they all converged, offering Thor handshakes and high fives.

“Did you see that hit?”

“And that arm!”

“We’ll have to get an XXL jersey for his biceps alone.”

Thor blushed, receiving their praise with a hint of embarrassment and more than a touch of pride.

Jose clapped him on the shoulder. “Welcome to the team, man.”

“Thank you,” Thor said, nodding to as many of them as he could. “I cannot express just how glad I am to be here.”

-o-

As preoccupied as Thor was with work and the house and his relationship with Jane, it would be easy to think he had no real energy to put his attention elsewhere. At the very least, that was what he had assumed. In his mind, joining a softball league would be a small, forgettable distraction.

He was surprised, therefore, when it became the highlight of his week. He never missed a practice, and soon he was fielding the ball better than all his teammates. And during games, he relished the way the outfielders backed up to the fence, especially since their small act didn’t matter.

When Thor hit the ball, he hit it hard. It was not difficult to make contact, and with a certain amount of reflection, he was able to position his bat perfectly every time to avoid popping up or grounding out. It was an act of vanity, perhaps, to always swing for the fences, but Thor could not help himself.

He had resigned himself not to seek glory or praise among men.

But he was not so humbled that he would not hit a homerun, every single time.

He liked rounding the bases, jogging back in with a smile on his face as he crossed home.

-o-

As much as he enjoyed softball, he did not become deterred from his focus. He made good progress on the house, and he was meticulous with every step of the process. He measured all his cuts three times, and referenced the building code often. It was a tedious amount of work, and though Thor was familiar with the process of building, he wanted to be sure that everything was right on this home.

It had to be perfect.

He once ripped out a doorframe when it found it to be slightly bowed. He spent extra for industrial grade pipes and wiring. Thor had cut many corners in his life, but he would not sacrifice anything here.

In the night, when Thor was still doing what he could in the low light, Jane would join him sometimes. He fitted her with a hard hat and a hammer, letting her pound nails absently into the framework while she rambled about her own work. She had much to tell him of her progress, and Thor listened between the bangs, asking questions at appropriate intervals.

He never bothered to tell her that he took all the nails out the next morning.

No, the nails were far from the point.

The real value was the two of them, _together_ , and he loved to listen to her talk about her day and her life. He liked the intimacy of knowing her mind, of falling in love with her again while listening to her enthusiasm for things beyond Thor’s grasp.

He liked to imagine that this would be how it was when the house was finished, when Thor cooked dinner at the large stove with a roast cooking in one oven and a cherry pie in the other. Jane would be at the breakfast bar, drinking a chilled glass of wine while she told him of her latest publication or her next discovery. They would eat together and then curl up on the couch to watch the news or a movie.

In bed, Jane would stare at the stars until she fell asleep, and Thor would sleep turned toward her night after night.

For the rest of their lives.

Thor could hardly wait.

-o-

Not that it was always easy or entirely perfect. In fact, the further along the process got, the more difficult it became.

As Thor struggled to maintain a healthy work-life balance, he found Jane to be less receptive to such things that he was.

Which was why it was not a surprise when Saturday night came around and he found her still engrossed in her work.

“No,” she said to one of her newer employees. “I need you to rerun the process accounting for the new value. We have to have it right….”

She trailed off when she saw Thor, dressed and ready to go. He had taken the time to wash and dress in his sleekest clothes, braiding his hair and leaving it loose about his shoulder, the way he knew Jane liked.

“It’s seven, isn’t it,” Jane said, faced pinched in apology.

“Almost eight, in fact,” Thor said with as much patience as he could muster. Jane had made it clear that incessant reminders as to the time were more aggravating than helping, and she had objected to his loitering when he clearly wanted to leave. Thor had obliged her, but the problem was, of course, that then Jane lost track of time entirely.

“I’m just in the middle of this thing…,” she started, trailing off at Thor’s withering look. “I really need to make this deadline--”

“That was your excuse last week,” Thor said. “And the week before that.”

“Well, we’re trying to get the prototype--”

Thor took a breath. “Jane,” he said. “We have made promises to each other. I feel it is important to honor them.”

“I know, I know,” Jane said. “But we got a spike of activity again, higher than before.”

She stopped again, holding Thor’s gaze.

Thor momentarily considered his response. He wanted to object even more stridently, to remind her of her promise, to tell her that he felt slighted by her continual brush-off. He was giving up much for her, and he wanted to feel like it was being reciprocated.

Which was, most certainly, part of the problem.

Relationships were a delicate balance of give and take, but he could not take what the other person was not willing to give. It was not a question of love, for he knew Jane loved him very much. It was about accepting Jane exactly the way she was, even when it was difficult or inconvenient.

As a prince, this had never been a problem. Things had always been on Thor’s terms, and he’d marched straight into Jotunheim believing he could do no wrong. Indeed, those around him had never told him no, and though he placed no blame on Sif, Volstagg, Hogun or Fandral, he could not commend their willingness to concede his stupidity from time to time.

He wanted to demand her attention. He wanted to assert his authority.

Except he had none. They were equals in their relationship, and if Thor was to live a life of humility, he could not compromise himself on this.

He had to swallow his pride; he had to put himself second. He had to understand where Jane was coming from and respect her needs even to the frustration of his own.

And it was very, _very_ frustrating.

Purposefully, he wet his lips. Swallowing, he nodded.

“Thor--” she started, shoulders starting to fall.

“Jane,” he said, not letting her finish.

She fell silent; eyes wide as she looked at him.

He drew a breath, forcing himself to smile against all his baser instincts. “Your work is quite pressing,” he said. “I understand.”

“You…do?”

He nodded, rallying his strength. “I believe we both need to be committed to our relationship, but I also respect the demands of your life,” he said. “I could never, in good conscience, ask you to choose between your work and me.”

She looked surprised. “You…couldn’t?”

“Of course not,” he said. “May I suggest take out, then?”

Still surprised, she seemed to collect herself to some degree. “Um, yeah,” she said. “Maybe Chinese?”

“That sounds wonderful,” Thor said. “I’ll get extra crab rangoons.”

“Only because you eat all of them,” Jane joked. “And hey, maybe pick up a movie? You could hit a Redbox.”

“Something romantic?” he asked.

She wrinkled her nose. “Nah, let’s go for explosions.”

This time, when he smiled, it felt less strained. “Chinese food and explosions it is.”

“Oh, and Thor?” she asked.

He paused, looking to her.

“Have I told you lately that you are the absolute _best_ boyfriend ever?”

“You may have mentioned it,” he said. Then, he winked. “But I do like hearing it again.”

-o-

It was persistence and dedication, the virtues his mother had often lecture him about but he had found too tedious outside the training fields. Life was a series of repetitive tasks. Separately, they seemed mundane, but on a whole, they represented the core of his existence. 

At his job, he supervised with more tenacity that the post probably warranted; and though it was a long cry from the throne of Asgard, he thought the idea of leadership was much the same. In his relationships, he had to remind himself to stay humble, a task that was not always easy as time went by and he grew more confident in his station on this planet. With the house, he had to maintain his own schedule and budget or risk the entire project falling off the rails. It was a true act of self-discipline, and it was also an act of devotion.

More than that, it was a testament that solidified his transformation. On Asgard, he would have inherited the kingdom of his forefathers, sitting on a throne that he had not built or earned. This home would be modest by comparison -- indeed, it hardly warranted a comparison at all -- but it would be built of his own blood and sweat.

That made all the difference.

-o-

All that said, he could not help but dote on Jane.

He had worked hard to find the adequate balance, and though he sought to retain his humility, he had come to terms with the reality that he was no more or less than Jane Foster. They were equals in a committed and meaningful relationship. He learned how to express his desires without being overbearing, and they weathered various conflicts with admirable aplomb.

But he could not -- nor would he -- stop himself from attending to her needs; especially when she was so prone to neglecting them herself. With her work as hectic as it was, she often forgot to eat or sleep. He sometimes followed her around with food until she resigned herself to take a bite, and he often covered her with a blanket when she fell asleep on the couch, still slumped over her latest calculations.

One such night, as he tidied up the lab in the dim light, Darcy stirred from her spot on the reclining chair, adjacent to the couch where Jane was still sprawled asleep. Darcy groaned, squinting up at him. “What time is it?” she mumbled.

“A little after midnight,” Thor said softly, watching carefully while Jane slept heavily nearby.

Darcy groaned again, sitting up a little and stretching her back. “I really need to talk to Jane about overtime,” she said. “This is getting ridiculous.”

Thor raised his eyebrows, picking up several dishes from the coffee table. “You seem to be enjoying it.”

Darcy made a noise in the back of her throat. “What makes you say that?”

Thor shrugged. “You show up to work on time; you willingly stay late,” he said. “Sometimes you almost sound as excited as Jane when new data becomes available.”

Darcy made a face like she was about to protest. Then, she slumped back again with a curse. “You can’t tell her.”

Thor deposited the dishes on the counter and made his way back. “What? That you like your job?”

“Yes, that,” Darcy said sullenly. “Then I will lose all leverage with her.”

“Do you really have doubts as to the strength of your relationship with Jane?” Thor asked. “She will always do what she can to provide for you; her success will be yours.”

Darcy wrinkled her nose, looking at Jane. “You know, I never intended to stay this long,” she said. “I swear to God, I just wanted a summer job to pay the bills before footing it to New York.”

“What was in New York?” Thor asked.

“I don’t know,” Darcy said with a shrug. “Adventure? Possibilities? I thought I could go out there and just live, you know? Do what I wanted, just the way I wanted it.”

Thor smiled fondly. “Life has a way of changing on you,” he said. “Why did you stay?”

Darcy sighed. “Laziness.”

Thor made a face.

“Or, I don’t know,” Darcy continued. “I had no idea what the hell she was talking about half the time, but she made me want to learn it. The way she cares about things, the way she pushes until she gets what she wants -- it’s sort of addictive.”

“She does have that quality,” Thor agreed, looking at Jane’s slumbering form once more.

“Now, I think I’d miss it,” Darcy said. “I’d actually miss this backwater little town and this weird, quasi-family thing we’ve got going on here.”

“Well, that I cannot fault you for,” Thor said. “I think what we have here is good as well.”

Darcy settled back, a little more contented now. “Plus, you’re, like, the best cook,” she said. “I don’t even know how or why. But I’d stay here forever if it meant I never had to cook. Or do laundry. Speaking of which, did you do the whites?”

Thor laughed. “First thing in the morning.”

She nodded, smiling a little. After a moment, she said, “You know, everything is perfect.”

“As close to perfect as is possible,” Thor said.

She snorted, getting to her feet and reaching for her purse. “Just wait until you ask her to marry you and screw everything up,” she commented wryly. 

Thor stopped, blinking stupidly.

Darcy stretched in an exaggerated motion. “I’m going to head home,” she said. “Tell Jane I’ll be in before lunch. And I’m counting on those whites, okay?”

Thor watched as she crossed toward the door.

Turning back, she waved. “Night.”

Thor didn’t manage a reply. Fortunately, Darcy was out the door before he had the chance to feel reticent for his silence. Instead, he turned his eyes back to Jane.

_Just wait until you ask her to marry you_.

Marriage, Thor realized with newfound clarity.

_Marriage_.

-o-

Though there was still more to clean up, Thor found himself too distracted to work. Even when he retired to bed, he discovered sleep difficult.

Marriage.

There had been a time, of course, when it had been expected of him -- but always in the future. He had been so preoccupied with other things to entertain the idea of a courtship seriously. On Asgard, where centuries could pass in the blink of an eye, Thor had always thought himself to have more time.

Time, however, was the one thing he no longer had so much of. Time was against him now, and though he valued his moments more closely now, he was aware that they were fleeting. He wanted to use them as best he could, and that was why he was embracing this life -- as lowly as some might deem it to be -- to the fullest.

That was why he took the promotion at work. That was why he was building the house.

That was why he was working so hard in his relationship with Jane.

He was seeking concrete things, tangible in their progress. A home, a job -- a wife?

He had always assumed to live the rest of his days by Jane’s side, but had he anticipated the rituals that might entail? Had he thought through the nuances of that commitment? Had he even thought to ask?

Suddenly, despite all that he had learned, Thor thought he still had a lot of things left to discover.

-o-

Thor paid more attention to the state of marriages in people he knew. He watched married couples down at the diner, those who still showed attention to one another and those who were too preoccupied with other tasks to seemingly notice the person at their side. Some still held hands after decades together, while others dragged young children behind them in silent and beleaguered unity.

He watched couples argue at the hardware store; he saw them discuss produce at the supermarket. He saw them kiss, touch each other on the arm, and walk perfectly in unison. He saw some with pronounced distance, and others who looked as if they fit together like two pieces of a puzzle.

The disparity was glaring. There was no simple, uniform image. The variety was as vast as humanity itself, and things just got more complicated when he asked his friends about their thoughts on the matter.

Ricky nearly choked on his soda. “You can’t really be thinking about getting hitched, can you?”

Thor shrugged, trying not to seem obvious. “I suppose it has crossed my mind.”

Ricky groaned. “Don’t be another victim, man,” he said. “Don’t give in to the societal pressure and sell your soul.”

Thor furrowed his brows in consternation.

Jose rolled his eyes. “I’m not sure you’re the best person to give advice on the subject.”

“Never been married,” Ricky said, bucking himself up proudly. “Never hope to be. No way I’m going to tie myself down like that.”

“With an attitude like that, that’s for the best,” Jose observed.

“But you, Jose,” Thor said. “You have been married for some years?”

Jose nodded, chewing a bite of his sandwich. “Just over 11 years now.”

“And you like it?” Thor pressed.

Jose smiled a little. “That’s a bit too simple,” he said. “Marriage is complicated.”

“And that’s _my_ point,” Ricky chimed in.

“Complicated isn’t always bad,” Jose said pointedly. “There are good times and bad times, but when both people are equally committed, I think it can be a worthwhile thing.”

Thor chewed in contemplation.

Ricky bounced his leg. “Is Jane dropping hints?”

“Hints?” Thor asked.

“You know,” Ricky said. “Telling you her ring size; looking at bridal magazines. Taking you to jewelry shops.”

“No, she has given no indication that it is on her mind,” Thor said.

“Even better!” Ricky crowed.

“I have been told, however, that most long term relationships are expected to result in marriage,” Thor said.

“Maybe at one point,” Jose said. “That’s changed a lot, though. Couples can do what they want at whatever level of commitment they’re interested in.”

“Which is none, thank you,” Ricky said.

“Do you know how Jane feels about marriage?” Jose asked.

“Honestly, it has never come up,” Thor said.

“Then, you shouldn’t bother talking to us,” Jose told him. “That’s a conversation to have with her.”

-o-

Since first arriving on Earth, Thor had discussed many things with Jane. Indeed, she had seen him at his very worst, so he had no delusions of inflated pride around her. Yet, the topic of marriage was daunting to broach. After all, it did not come up naturally in conversation. Any attempt to segue to such a topic seemed obviously contrived and full of innuendo. To ask her about marriage suggested that he himself was thinking about marriage, which would naturally influence her response to any inquiry.

He was not sure what distressed him most: not knowing her genuine response or what assumptions she might make regarding his inquiry.

It was the sort of thing he would have paid no heed to in the past. No, in his previous life, he had been undeterred by this type of thing. He had known nothing of hesitation and restraint; he had cared not how others perceived him for he had always assumed they saw him in total greatness.

That was an attitude he could ill afford to have now. He had fallen too hard, and too fast, to ever assume such confidence again. More than that, he respected his relationship with Jane for what it was. He often did not know how he had come to be so lucky as to be with her, and he sought daily to maintain that connection with all he had.

And Thor had a lot, he had discovered. Without thoughts of kingship and leadership, he had much fortitude to apply and though he did work hard in other things, his relationship with Jane was at the center of his existence on this planet. It was the thing he valued above all else, the thing he would protect at the expense of every other thing in this life.

He was afraid to ruin it by making any assumption about the future.

If Jane wanted to marry, would she be offended that he had not brought it up yet? If Jane did not want to marry, would she feel awkward by the suggestion? What if discussing the future made the present less palatable? 

There was no easy answer. Indeed, there was no answer at all, and though Thor had learned much since his exile on Midgard, he had never come to accept indecision as a viable means to anything. While it was true that he would not be riding headlong into battle on Jotunheim again any time soon, he was not going to sit idle while the question burned in the back of his mind. Some risks, even now, had to be taken.

“What do you think of marriage?”

Jane was chewing on the back of her pen, her papers still in front of her even as they watched a movie on the television. “Marriage?” she asked absently, not looking up from her work.

Thor took a breath to steady his resolve. “Marriage,” he said again. “What do you think of marriage?”

“Oh, you know,” she murmured. “It’s fine.”

Thor narrowed his eyes. _Fine_ was not the answer he was expecting; nor was it one that was particularly useful. He was used to having half-conversations with Jane when she was engrossed in her work, and usually he knew better than to approach her with serious conversations when she was preoccupied. In his defense, however, she was always preoccupied these days and Thor could not stand waiting any longer with this question nagging at the back of his consciousness.

“No, Jane,” he said, more purposefully now. “What do you think of _marriage_?”

The question was the same, but Thor let his tone carry the necessary inflection. The last word lingered, and he waited, looking at her expectantly.

Shaking her head, she looked up. “I told you, it’s fine,” she said. “Marriage is--”

She stopped, her words not quite forming properly, and Thor saw the pieces fall into place as she finally understood his question for the first time.

“Marriage?” she asked, voice lilting just slightly now.

Encouraged by an actual response, even if a vague one, Thor nodded readily. “We have been dating for quite some time by Earth standards,” he said. “And it has been brought to my attention that many people in long term arrangement discuss the official status of their relationship as things progress.”

“Marriage,” Jane supplied for him. “You mean _we_ should talk about marriage.”

“It seems like a relevant topic for us to define between ourselves,” he said.

Jane drew a breath before pressing her lips together. She drew another breath as if to speak, but shook her head. “I,” she started. “Are you proposing to me?”

“No,” Thor said. “I am merely asking as to your feelings regarding the future of our relationship.”

She nodded, a little hesitant. “I really haven’t thought about it,” she admitted. “I mean, we’re good together. And we’re happy, I think. And I don’t want you to leave, and I don’t want to leave. But marriage?”

The question was not quite rhetorical, but it also did not warrant an obvious answer.

After a moment of awkward silence, Jane shook her head. “Honestly, I’ve never really thought about it,” she said. “Not seriously, anyway. When I think about all the things I’ve wanted to do in my life, that’s just never come up. You know?”

Thor stared blankly for a moment. Did he know? In some ways, yes. Because in all that he had sought to accomplish on Earth, a legal union had been far from his mind. He had been too busy trying to figure out what it meant to be human to preoccupy himself with legalities.

“I believe I might,” Thor said, a little slowly as he processed the notion. “I just came to realize that I have not always been overt in my intentions with you.”

Jane laughed. “There’s nothing we can’t do without a wedding,” she said. “I mean...if you wanted--”

Thor reddened. “I would not presume--”

“I wouldn’t either,” she said, rushed now. “I mean, we could, you know. If you wanted. I just...wasn’t sure how that worked. You know, you being an alien from another planet and, um--”

“From what I can tell I am fully human now,” Thor said.

“Oh, yeah,” Jane said. “So we could--”

“I was waiting for you--”

“And I guess I was waiting for you--”

“You don’t have, like, super-powered sperm or something?” Jane joked. “You do use sperm, right?”

Thor blinked. “We may have to compare the anatomy.”

Jane blinked back. “Wait, what are we talking about?”

Thor shook his head, brow starting to scrunch up again. “I am no longer certain,” he admitted.

Jane took a breath. “I haven’t really thought about marriage,” she finally said definitively. “But other things…”

She trailed off, biting her lip as her fingers slid upon his thigh.

Thor cocked his head. “Other things,” he agreed, fingers on top of hers as they traced up and up and--

Jane exhaled, putting her work aside. “Do you want to talk about this in the bedroom?”

Thor closed his eyes, pressing his lips together with a small moan. “Yes, please.”


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because Thor wasn’t going through the motions. No. Thor was building his future, one day -- one nail -- at a time.

Thor got no clarity regarding marriage.

Somehow, he did not mind.

“Oh, my goodness,” Jane said, flopping back against the pillows. “Why did we wait so long?”

Thor propped himself up on his side, looking at her with a smile. “I thought perhaps it was your preference?”

“I thought maybe it was a cultural difference,” she said. “You talk about it there, and it seems so old fashioned so I didn’t know if it was taboo or something?”

“And I did not want you to feel pressured into an uncomfortable situation,” Thor added. “I was trying to be polite--”

“I know!” Jane said. “And I was trying to be sensitive!”

“There was no need,” Thor said.

“Same here,” Jane agreed enthusiastically. She hesitated. “And you’re sure about the sperm not being super-powered?”

“I am fully human,” he said.

She nodded suggestively, “So you want to?”

“Well,” he said with a sly smile. “We do have to make up for lost time.”

-o-

For Jane marriage was not an issue. Though their conversation had been awkward, Thor couldn’t deny that they had made some positive progress as a result. Their relationship felt stronger and better than ever before. Most of the time, Thor was too fixated on the new tier of intimacy with Jane to even think about marriage at all.

It was not on her mind.

Yet, somehow, it was still on his.

He could not quite help himself, he found. When he watched her sleep at night, her body tucked against him between the sheets, he dreamed of seeing her in the ceremonial gowns of Asgard, hair swept up gracefully as she looked at him through the veil worn by his mother and his grandmother before her. He thought of a white dress and a church on Earth, saying _I do_ just like in the movies.

The idea came to him unbidden; the thought of her as his wife, and he her husband. When he was making breakfast or going about his work at the construction site.

Marriage was not an issue with Jane.

But he was starting to wonder if it were an issue with him.

-o-

“Jose,” Thor finally said one day while they were clocking out for the evening. “When did you decide to marry your wife?”

Jose grinned at him a little. “The moment I realized I couldn’t imagine my life without her,” he said. “Which was pretty fast, I will admit.”

“Did she make her intentions clear?” Thor asked.

“I think we both always knew,” Jose said. “Did you talk to Jane?”

Thor nodded. “I did.”

“And?”

“And she says marriage is not something she thinks about,” he said. “She does not feel it is necessary.”

“Well, that can make things easier,” Jose said, clearly trying to be helpful.

Thor tried to appear reassured.

Jose knew him better than that. “And what about you?”

Thor looked at him, surprised.

“How do you feel about marriage?”

To that, Thor had no response.

“Look, Thor,” Jose said. “You care about Jane, and you need to respect her opinions and beliefs. But it’s a two-way street. She may not think about marriage, but if you do, you need to tell her that.”

“I do not want her to feel pressured,” he said.

“And you have to trust that she wouldn’t want you to feel unhappy either,” Jose said. “Maybe you two decide you want to get married. Maybe you don’t. But you have to tell her how you feel.”

“And if I don’t know how I feel?” Thor asked.

Jose chuckled. “Then that might be a good place to start.”

-o-

What did Thor feel?

That was a good place to start perhaps, but it was not an easy one. For feelings were complicated; Thor had spent the better part of three years relegating his own feelings to be of lesser importance. He had spent so much of his life fixated on his own desires and whims that the rapid shift to undo that had been drastic and nearly complete. Thor was not the same man he’d been on Asgard, and that was mostly for the better. He had worked hard to deconstruct his pride and to let go of his ego.

This was the hard reality of his exile. To accept what he’d lost. Not just in terms of its quantity, but its fault as well. To make amends. Thor had striven to be selfless and devoid of pride. To protect what he had built on this planet, he had dedicated himself to the well-being and overall happiness of those around him.

In this, he had found great satisfaction.

He had not thought he would need more.

But this issue with marriage was bringing the conflict back into focus again. For there was still something of self that was worth fighting for; to put himself second _all_ the time would not always be possible. Jane had told him this much. She had asked him for honesty between them. And as Thor became more comfortable on Earth, his sense of self was starting to rebound.

It was unsettling, of course, and he fought against it out of instinct. He did not want to fall victim to his ego once again. There was a difference; he had to think, between rash over indulgence and healthy self-esteem. Human selfishness was among the least attractive qualities of the people on this planet, but their embrace of the individual did hold some merit that Thor found attractive.

Not just for others.

For himself.

Which made the question even more relevant: how did Thor feel about marriage?

He already knew how he felt about Jane Foster, and he had never attempted to minimize his commitment to her. He had always made his devotion plain, and he did not intend to change that, regardless of their relationship status.

That being said, the idea of marriage was suddenly something more appealing than he might have thought. On Asgard, marriage was an enduring contract. It weathered all seasons of life and was not made lightly nor was it exited easily. On Earth, the strength of this contract was clearly far less, for their divorce rates were higher. This was to be expected, Thor decided, given the individualistic nature of their society and the fleeting reality of their lives.

The point being, of course, that Thor’s sense of marriage did not mesh entirely with the human conception of the union. Though he found the fleeting realities of humanity to be empowering most of the time, he could not deny that he still relished the seemingly archaic notion of an Asgardian marriage.

Because it was not merely a social contract, rather, it was seen as an intellectual, emotional and spiritual connection. The intensity of it was the main reason he had never pursued it on Asgard; he had not felt ready to settle down.

But Thor was settled now. Thor was irrevocably settled, no matter how short his years might be. He craved that level of commitment with Jane, for he loved her more than anything; and, like Jose had said, he could not envision his life without her.

Yes, Thor wanted to marry Jane Foster by any standard. He wanted a piece of paper to denote their bond; he wanted a ceremony to celebrate their commitment with friends. He wanted a ring to symbolize the depth of their devotion.

These things were not necessary; they would change nothing.

Thor wanted them all the same.

It would be easy for Thor to talk himself out of this. He could tell himself that he had no right to want anything, given the intergalactic chaos he had caused. He could remind himself that he risked alienating Jane by professing a desire that she did not share. He could tell himself that he was unworthy, as the hammer lying dormant in the desert testified painfully on his behalf.

These were all realities of what were.

They did not have to be realities of what was to come. Thor was changed by his past, but he could still build the future of his own desire. He had to be cautious, yes. He had to show compassion and concern and foresight. But it was still his future.

Sooner or later, he would have to come to terms with that.

-o-

The determination did not come easily.

Making changes based on this determination came even harder.

Thor had never been timid; he had never been shy or awkward or uncertain. But whenever he tried to venture into the conversation of marriage again, he was so flummoxed by his own emotions that he could not think of a thing to say.

It did not help that every time the conversation lapsed, Jane gave him this look.

“So, um, do you want to…” she would say.

And the only thing Thor could think to say was, “Yes.”

-o-

Thor could become preoccupied, but he considered it fortuitous that he had ample distractions. Between work and the house, he was not in need of things to do.

Then, to make matters even busier, Selvig arrived.

They had heard less from Selvig in recent months, though it was difficult to say who was entirely to blame. Though it was quite likely that Selvig was busier than ever with S.H.I.E.L.D., Jane and Thor had both been preoccupied themselves. So when the older man showed up in the lab one evening, it took them all a good minute to realize he was there.

“Erik!” Jane said, almost shrieking. She dropped her work with a clatter, startling one of her employees as she took off across the room. “You’re here!”

Still holding his travel bag, Selvig smiled tiredly, embracing Jane as she threw herself at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” she asked, stepping back as Thor and Darcy crossed closer to the reunion.

“Well,” Selvig said, shrugging. “I honestly wasn’t sure if I’d ever get the time off.”

“Things are busy, then,” Jane said.

Selvig wet his lips, glancing at Thor for a brief moment. The look in his eyes was momentarily cold before he offered Jane a smile. “Things are always busy,” he said. “Which is just as true for you. I saw that you and Stark are working together now.”

Jane’s eyes brightened even more. “I wouldn’t have predicted that one myself,” she said. “I mean, he’s a weapons guy, and he’s always struck me as conceited and self-serving.”

“And amazing,” Darcy added.

“But he’s got a mind for science,” Jane said. “And Stark Industries has the resources and the clout--”

“Hey, no arguments here,” Selvig said. “You deserve the recognition. I think you and Stark can get things done.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D.’s probably watching anxiously, huh?” Jane asked with a mischievous grin.

Selvig chuckled. “S.H.I.E.L.D. is watching everything,” he said. “They know more about Stark Industries than they’d like people to know.”

Jane paused. “Wait, should I be concerned?”

“No,” Selvig said. “No, no, no. No matter what S.H.I.E.L.D. watches, surely we all can agree that Tony Stark will always play by his own rules. And that’s to your benefit this time.”

“We’re so close, Erik,” Jane said. “Just wait until you see it. We’re _so close._ ”

Selvig smiled, the corners of his eyes wrinkling warmly. “I can’t wait,” he said. “But first, maybe I can get settled?”

“Oh, right, right,” Jane said, as if just realizing Selvig was still holding his bag.

“Here,” Thor said, reaching out to take the bag. “Let me.”

“We’re a little crowded here these days,” Jane said apologetically.

“Which is to say we usually have people sleeping on the floor now,” Darcy said.

“But you can have my room,” Thor said.

“I don’t want to be a bother,” Selvig said.

Thor smiled, glancing purposefully at Jane, who blushed. It did not warrant mention that Thor did not use his room near as much as he used to. “It is no bother at all,” Thor promised.

Selvig nodded. “Well, I suppose.”

“Are you hungry?” Jane asked. “We could make something.”

“Oh, sure, ask him if he’s hungry,” Darcy said. “You work me to death without even thinking about my stomach.”

Jane shook her head. “Ignore her.”

“Well, it’s true,” Darcy protested.

“Fine,” Jane said. “Then we can go out. Do you want to go out?”

“I want to go out,” Darcy mumbled.

“Ah,” Selvig said, rocking back on his heels. “It’s good to see that some things never change.”

-o-

They had much to discuss. Selvig made various inquiries, mostly as to the state of Jane’s project, and they discussed in some detail the number of employees and the new processing methods that had greatly amplified their yield. However, when Jane started to explain the fluctuating atmospheric conditions, Darcy interjected quite forcefully.

“No, no, no,” she said. “This dinner is strictly casual.”

“Indeed,” Thor agreed. “Selvig, you have probably not had a vacation in months. You should have the chance to unwind.”

“I don’t mind,” Selvig started.

“No, they’re right,” Jane said. “Science can wait.”

Selvig raised his eyebrows. “That’s not something I’d expect to hear from you.”

Jane smiled sheepishly. “Just until after dinner,” she said. “Besides, a few things have changed.”

“I can see that,” Selvig observed, glancing between Jane and Thor. “I assume everything is still good?”

Thor cleared his throat, nodding hastily.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jane said. “Very good.”

“They’re going at it now,” Darcy supplied.

Jane gaped, and Thor felt his cheeks redden.

Selvig stared at her.

Darcy nodded. “Every night,” she said.

“Darcy,” Jane said incredulously. “How could you--”

“Know?” Darcy asked abruptly. “We basically live together. And Thor must be kind of amazing, because you never screamed like that with Don.”

Jane’s mouth fell open; Thor looked studiously away.

“But I’m not complaining,” Darcy said. “If not for Thor, she’d never stop working.”

Selvig let out a snort. “Thank goodness for small blessings, then.”

There was an awkward silence, and Thor glanced between each of his friends, unable to determine who was more embarrassed. Finding them all to be equally mollified, he decided to change the subject. “We started building a house.”

Selvig looked to Thor, almost grateful for the change of topic. “That’s the construction, then,” he said. “I wasn’t sure if you were adding on to the lab.”

“With all of our processing going off site, we don’t need more space yet,” Jane said.

“And if we do need to expand the lab, I have drafted a few plans that could allow for upward expansion,” he said.

Jane looked at him. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“Well, it was very preliminary,” Thor said. “But with the space, you could make an impressive observatory--”

“And that’s work talk,” Darcy complained. “Tell him about the house.”

“Yes, of course,” Thor said. “I’m doing most of the work myself, which is why it is going rather slow, but we should be able to customize it to our exact specifications.”

“It’s going to be amazing,” Jane said, grinning now. “I mean, it’s going to have a chef’s kitchen, and the open concept is going to be great for entertaining. And with two extra bedrooms, we’ll have room for people to come and stay, so whenever you’re here, you won’t have to bunk in Thor’s room. Then the windows -- and the skylights--”

Jane paused, as if imagining it. The details were things Thor knew, better than Jane in fact. But, to hear her talk of it, to hear her boast of it -- that was something unexpected. For Thor had told her all of these things. Although he had never been certain if it meant as much to her as it did to him. She had been good natured, of course, but this was more than that. This was not her humoring him.

This was Jane, sharing his dream. Though she had not wanted it, she wanted it because he wanted it. Because, what mattered to one of them would always matter to the other. This was why Thor talked to her about the stars, why he helped her with her measurements. This was why he sat with her under the night sky for hours, just to let her look and look and look.

Because, relationships were about humility. About putting the other person first.

Because Jane loved him as much as he loved her.

And no realization could possibly matter more to him than that.

Jane smiled at Thor. “Thor has really thought of everything.”

He had, most certainly. But the fact that she noticed.

“So it sounds like you intend to stick around,” Selvig said, breaking Thor’s train of thought. “Both of you.”

“With my research as it is.” Jane said.

“And I see no reason to go,” Thor said.

Selvig nodded. “That sounds great. Really great.”

“Yeah, what sounds really great is pie,” Darcy said. “I don’t know who’s paying, but you’re buying pie.”

Thor rolled his eyes and flagged down the waitress.

-o-

Back at the lab, Jane tried to keep things casual, but Thor did not object when she finally lured Selvig over to the equipment to start discussing her latest developments. Darcy slipped out not long after, and Thor cleaned up for a bit before retreating outside himself, leaving Jane and Selvig to share their passions.

It was somewhat late, but Thor was not tired, and he did have many projects he wanted to complete on the house. The structure was mostly in place now, and he’d managed to get the roof in place, which made it easier to protect his progress. However, he was having some difficulty properly preparing the walls for the wiring, and the meticulous work took a long time to complete.

In truth, he had been procrastinating to some degree. Not that he wasn’t fully invested in the project, but even Thor had things he preferred.

Still, he could hear Jane’s praise. He could still see the enthusiasm in her eyes, a look she normally only shared for science.

This was her home, too.

That was the only incentive Thor needed to pick up his tools and start working.

-o-

Unsurprisingly, Jane and Selvig did not stop their scientific exchange for the better part of the next day. It was unclear to Thor just how long Selvig would stay with them, but he saw no need to fret about it. Instead, he joined them for meals and politely reminded the rest of Jane’s employees to keep some distance and baked cookies.

Because cookies were amazing.

Other than that, Thor kept to himself, making good progress on the house throughout the better part of the day. He was thinking about his next project when there was an unexpected thump on the floor behind him.

He turned, surprised to see Selvig standing there.

The older man was looking around, nodding in approval. “It looks good,” he said, running his hand along one of the planks of wood. “You do good work.”

Thor smiled. “You sound surprised.”

Selvig shook his head. “Just making an observation.”

“As you can imagine, I’ve always had some skill with a hammer.”

“A joke?” Selvig replied. “Now _that_ surprises me.”

Thor shrugged. “You are one of the few that would appreciate it.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. still doesn’t know what to make of it, by the way,” Selvig said, sauntering inside. “They have all these theories.”

“And?” Thor asked.

“And they’ll only ever have theories,” Selvig concluded. He was silent for a moment. “You don’t miss it, do you?”

Thor considered that, for it was a question that was not without relevance. Mjölnir was more than a possession; it was more than a relic. It was not just a sign of his past life -- rather, that hammer had been part of him. It had come to define him, and the absence of that would always be something of a yawning hole inside of him.

He did miss it in this regard; just as he would always miss Asgard, his friends and his family.

“It is not a question of missing it,” Thor replied. “It is a matter of accepting the reality I have been given.”

Selvig nodded absently. “Is that why you’re building this?” he asked. “You’re accepting the reality?”

Thor looked about the room, at the carefully constructed frame and the tedious work he’d embarked on. “The hammer in the desert is a statement to what I’ve lost,” he said. “This home, here in Puente Antiguo, it is a testament to what I have gained. I cannot control the first, but this -- this I can control.”

“Well,” Selvig said. “It is going to be a beautiful home, Thor. For you. For Jane.”

There was an odd tension in his voice, something subtle that Thor might let pass in other circumstances. “Do you still approve of my relationship with Jane?”

Selvig looked at him again, and it was his turn to appear surprised. “How could I not?”

“You seem reticent around us,” Thor noted.

“Worried, is more like it,” Selvig said.

“I have told you my intentions.” Thor said.

“Yet I know that something is still coming,” Selvig interjected. The look of resignation deepened on his face. “Something is coming, and I can’t help but think you’re going to be a part of that.”

“I know of nothing--”

“But you do, Thor,” Selvig said. “Whatever is coming, it’s coming from the same place you knew. You may not be able to predict it, but I’m pretty sure when it comes, you’re going to be one of the few who will understand it.”

Thor shifted his feet. “Has S.H.I.E.L.D. sent you to recruit me?”

Selvig’s snort was short and bitter. “They would like that,” he said. “But no. I didn’t come here to recruit you.”

“Then why?”

“I came here to make sure I could still trust you,” he said. “That no matter what was coming; I knew you would put Jane first.”

“She is not some defenseless creature that needs to be defended,” Thor pointed out.

“No,” Selvig agreed. “But she’d march into danger in the name of science, and someone has to be there to make sure she doesn’t become a martyr.”

“You fear it is that bad?” Thor asked quietly.

“I fear it’ll be worse,” Selvig said. “And I can’t be with S.H.I.E.L.D. if I think you’ll leave.”

Thor drew a breath, shaking his head. “As I have said--”

“Things change,” Selvig said. “More than you will ever be able to predict. You may think Earth is your safe haven. You may see this as your perfect, rebuilt life, but things _change_.”

“I want to ask Jane to marry me,” Thor finally blurted, unable to endure more.

At that, Selvig stopped.

Thor shrugged. “I want to ask her to spend the rest of her life with me,” he said. “I want this home to be the place where we build a family. A life. Whatever comes, this is my home.”

Selvig swallowed. “Have you asked her?”

Thor shook his head. “I have not,” he said. “I admit I am uncertain she would say yes. She has said that she does not think of marriage.”

“That doesn’t mean she’d say no,” Selvig said.

Thor tilted his head. “So you think she’d say yes?”

“I think she might surprise herself,” Selvig amended. “Like I said, things change.”

With renewed hope, Thor stepped forward. “So you think it’s a good idea?”

“Well,” Selvig said. “I don’t think it’s a bad one. No one has ever made her put science aside, not like that. Others, they’ve tried to change her. But you -- you’re the only one she’s wanted to make room for. You’re the only one she’s wanted to meet halfway.”

Thor broke into a smile. “So you do think it’s a good idea.”

Selvig sighed wearily. “The future is impossible to predict,” he said. “People at S.H.I.E.L.D. -- they spend their careers on that kind of thing. And there’s never any way to know for sure.”

“So what do you recommend?” Thor asked.

“You keep pounding in nails,” he said. “And hope like hell that you’ve got a strong enough foundation for when the storm comes.”

Thor eyed the other man carefully, not certain what response would be appropriate.

Selvig looked around again, face pinched. “Because you can trust me on this much,” he said. “A storm is definitely coming.”

-o-

When Selvig left the following morning, Jane begged him to stay longer. Darcy said he was making his visits too infrequent, and Selvig smiled sadly.

“Work, you know,” he said. “I promise I’ll make it back soon.”

Thor shook his hand; Jane hugged him tight; Darcy waved goodbye.

From his car, Selvig looked back, lingering for a moment. Thor could see the older man watching the rearview mirror as he pulled away.

It was a sad thing to see Selvig go. He did miss the other man’s company and counsel.

It was sadder still, though, that Selvig was lying to them all. Not about his job or his fondness, but that last simple sentiment.

Somehow Thor knew Selvig would not be back again soon.

The future, after all, is fraught with change, and not always for the better.

“Come,” Thor said, slinging an arm around Jane’s shoulders. “The day is still young.”

Jane sighed, letting her head rest against his shoulder. “I could get a little work done.”

Thor gave her a look.

“Or,” Jane suggested. “Maybe it’d be a good day to relax? Watch some movies; make some popcorn?”

“Yes, this,” Darcy said. “We’re doing this now. Before you change your mind.”

Thor gestured forward grandly. “That settles it,” he announced. “A day of reprieve.”

Not just from what had been, Thor knew. But also for what might be.

-o-

Selvig’s visit changed very little. Jane still had much work to do, and Thor still had to keep at the house. Yet, somehow, things felt different; if not in the actual day to day routine, then the purpose behind said routine.

Because Thor wasn’t going through the motions.

No.

Thor was building his future, one day -- one nail -- at a time.

-o-

He hung the drywall and installed the wood floors. With help from Jose and Ricky, he finished installing the windows and managed to get most of the plumbing in order. He worked with a subcontractor on the electrical systems and meticulously applied the abode exterior.

Jane got another article published, this time with international recognition. A news crew from Good Morning America came, conducting an on-site interview that brought more press to their door. It would not be long now, she said, taking frequent calls from Pepper Potts herself at Stark’s offices in California.

Darcy started dating one of the new employees. When that didn’t work out, she started sleeping with a different one. When she declared them all to be useless, she put in an application for graduate school, because, in her words, she might as well make it official that she’s smarter than the rest of these losers.

It was coming together, with every piece of data, with every floor board, with every quip. It was softball games and movie nights and kissing Jane beneath the stars.

It was all of this and more.

So very much more.

-o-

Time passed.

At first, the days had seemed insignificant on Earth, even as weeks turned into months and then years. But the accumulated time was weighing on him now, for he could feel not only the hope of the future but the reality of change.

His hands grew dry and cracked, with nubby fingernails from the grind of his work. His skin, despite using sun protection, felt leathered and worn. The signs of age were starting to show on his face, with fine lines around his eyes and traces of gray in the long braids he pulled into a ponytail for work.

He had known he was human, but the decay of his flesh was still a startling reality. He would grow old here; old and weary, until his body failed and he withered into nothing. He would die, forsaken by his family and his friends back on Asgard. They would blink, and he would be gone, nothing but a footnote to their ongoing joys and tragedies.

But the starkness of his change was also a gift. A reminder of what he still had, and what he risked losing. He could ill afford to waste time, not when it was suddenly his most precious commodity. He would build a future that honored his past. He would create a future that embraced that now.

Thor would continue to live as a man saved, a man redeemed.

A man changed.

-o-

He was working on the house, getting the electrical in place in time for an inspection next week, when he sensed the presence.

Lifting his head from his work, he smiled. “I am losing track of time,” he said. “I had not realized that the date was so near.”

Agent Coulson smiled benignly. “To be fair, I’m early this year.”

Thor put down his tool, wiping his hand on his jeans. “You think that will improve your odds?”

“No,” he said. “But I figured I might as well say hello.”

Thor reached for another tool. “I didn’t realize S.H.I.E.L.D. had time for social visits.”

“You’re an active asset we monitor,” Coulson explained, nonplussed. “It’s good to have on record that you aren’t interested in helping us and are not a current threat to the stability of mankind.”

Thor chuffed. “I’m neither a threat nor an asset.”

“That’s good to hear,” Coulson said. “Though not really for you to determine.”

Thor straightened, bringing his shoulders back defensively. “And you came all the way here to tell me this?”

“No,” Coulson said.

Thor gathered a breath. “I have told you--”

“I know,” Coulson said. “And it will be noted. However, this year, I’m not just here for you.”

Frowning, Thor tightened his gaze.

“Jane Foster has made some pretty impressive strides in her work this year,” Coulson said.

“Her work is hers. You cannot--”

Coulson shook his head. “We could, actually,” he said. “But that’s not why I’m here.”

“You think she’d want to work willingly with you?” Thor asked.

“I think we have a pretty compelling offer,” Coulson said. “Erik Selvig and Tony Stark would probably agree.”

“If you knew Jane--” Thor started, bristling.

“Then I would know to appeal to her love of science,” Coulson said. “I would know to appeal to her intellectual curiosity and her sometimes eccentric methodology. I would know to talk to her about the greater good, about achievements that matter, about not cutting corners. I would tell her about the good she’s doing now, and how we can help her do more. For herself, for mankind. For you.”

Thor stiffened.

“I told you,” Coulson said. “We’re not the bad guys.”

With due hesitation, Thor stood his ground but said nothing.

Coulson nodded to the house. “You’re making good progress,” he commented. “You must really know your way around a hammer.”

Thor’s stomach turned painfully, and he had no reply as Agent Coulson exited the room as easily as he came. Walking to the window, Thor watched as the man crossed the property toward the lab, knocking at the door. As the door opened, he removed his glasses. With one look to Thor, he disappeared inside.

-o-

Thor tried to keep working, but he found himself more than somewhat distracted. He watched at the window more often than not, waiting nearly forty-five minutes before Agent Coulson left the lab.

It was all Thor could do not to march over there right then and demand to know Coulson’s intentions.

As it was, he managed to wait five minutes.

Entering the lab, he tried to act casual, starting to get a few things out for dinner. Even so, he watched Jane carefully, looking for any indication of distress or concern.

There was none.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “I saw that you had company.”

“What?” Jane asked distractedly from her work station. Since it was Sunday, Thor would have expected minimal staff support. However, Jane was alone, which Thor could only assume was not a coincidence.

“You had company,” Thor said again, a bit louder now.

“Oh, yeah,” Jane said, looking up now with a grin. “S.H.I.E.L.D., of all people.”

“Everything all right?” Thor asked.

“Well, considering that this time they didn’t come in and steal all my work, yes,” she said.

Getting a few more ingredients down for dinner, Thor tried to remain nonchalant. “So did he want anything?”

“Hmm?” Jane asked, looking at her work again.

“Did he want anything?” Thor repeated.

“Well, yeah,” Jane said. “He offered me a job. On my terms. With lots and lots of benefits.”

“Ah,” Thor said, not sure what response would be appropriate to convey support and apprehension at the same time. “That sounds too good to be true.”

Jane appeared thoughtful. “This time I think they might mean it,” she said. She paused, starting to make her way closer to Thor. “Erik’s had positive things to say about them.”

“They believe the end can justify the means,” Thor said cautiously.

At the counter, Jane nodded. “Oh, I know that,” she said. “I would never sign away the rights to my work or give them full control over anything. But he had a point, you know. About what S.H.I.E.L.D. can do with the work that I probably can’t.”

“That’s what they’re telling you, anyway,” Thor said.

“It’s about the science in the end,” Jane said. “I explained that my position is unchanged. Whatever I discover -- none of it is going to be top secret. I’m not playing with red tape and classified intelligence. What I create, it’s for the good of everyone.”

Thor raised his eyebrows expectantly. “And he agreed?”

She nodded. “I was surprised, too,” she said. “You know, he’s actually not terrible; when you talk to him.”

“He is trained in the art of subterfuge,” Thor said skeptically as he placed a skillet on the stove.

“I’m not naive, Thor,” she said. “But he had good points. And, I don’t know. My work is for everyone. More than me. More than Stark Industries. That probably includes S.H.I.E.L.D., too.”

She was being rational, which was only natural since Jane was nothing if not rational in her life. Thor trusted her judgment -- he truly did, probably more than his own -- but he couldn’t stop himself from feeling anxiety.

It was probably to be expected, and Thor knew enough to suspect he was just projecting. After all, he had charged into the secure S.H.I.E.L.D. facility with no doubts and with every expectation of being victorious. That had gone spectacularly bad, and though he had gained his freedom, he was always aware to some degree it was not by his own doing.

No, without the compassion of Erik Selvig, there was no telling what would have happened to him, if he would have gained his freedom at all.

That was the thing, then. Good or bad, S.H.I.E.L.D. was powerful, and Agent Coulson could talk about the greater good. But like any organization entrusted with the well-being of innocent people, it would made the choices it had to make. Thor knew how that was; that was why he’d charged brashly into Jotunheim. Because he’d believed the ends justified the means, and his lack of foresight had cost him and so many others more than he could ever truly grasp.

S.H.I.E.L.D. could boast no better. It took so little for the power to do good, to be used to make fatal mistakes. Thor wanted nothing to do with such responsibility, and he hesitated to approve of such a thing for Jane.

But that was not his decision to make. She did not need his approval; she only warranted his support.

“I haven’t decided anything,” Jane continued, sounding somewhat apologetic now. “I don’t trust them, Thor. I really don’t. But if we can help each other…” she trailed off with a shrug.

Thor took some meat out of the fridge. “What did they offer you?”

Jane blinked.

“I assume they offered you something,” he said.

“Well, like I said,” she said. “They offered facilities and support, which I don’t really need with Stark Industries backing me.”

“So?” Thor asked.

“So,” Jane continued. “They offered me access to their files; to their work. I’d get to see where they were at with things.”

“That seems quite magnanimous,” Thor said.

“They just want to see what I’m doing in return,” Jane said. “Which, it’s all public. I mean, I’m published now. They did a report on Good Morning America. This isn’t top secret.”

“And that’s that?” Thor asked, turning on a burner and putting the meat in the skillet.

Jane opened her mouth, and then drew her eyebrows together. “To see their information, I’d have to go to their facility,” she said.

Thor said nothing, studiously breaking the meat up over the heat with a spatula.

“And I mean, they said you could come,” she said.

He looked up, this time truly taken aback.

“No questions, no expectations,” she assured him. “But he said you’d be welcome to come. Stay with me if you wanted. Look around.”

Thor puffed his chest out belligerently. “S.H.I.E.L.D. has nothing--”

“They said you could see the hammer,” she blurted finally.

Thor stopped cold, and the silence between them grew. The meat started to sizzle as the stovetop warmed up.

Jane sighed. “I thought you might like to see it again,” she said. “I know it’s important to you--”

“I would tell them nothing about Mjölnir,” Thor started.

“I know,” she said. “And I told him that. And Agent Coulson said there’d be no strings attached. I know you think about it. I know you have to. I think about it, and it’s not my hammer--”

“Nor is it mine,” Thor interjected, voice going soft. He looked at her, a small, tight smile on his lips. “Mjölnir is mine no longer. It does not respond to me as it once did.”

“But have you tried--”

“Jane,” Thor said, moving toward her now. “You are thoughtful to think of this for me. And if you are serious about a partnership with S.H.I.E.L.D. in any capacity, I respect your choice. But do not do it for me.”

“I just know it’s the one thing you want and can’t get,” she said.

“Jane,” he said, reaching out to cup her cheek. “The only things I want are right here in front of me. Mjölnir is my past. This, Jane. This place. You. That is my future.”

She leaned into his touch. “I’d do anything for you,” she said. “I want to help you.”

“You have, very much,” Thor said, letting his hand drop as he smiled. “Now all I ask is that you be careful. S.H.I.E.L.D. may have good intentions, but they are still unknown. That makes them dangerous.”

A smile tugged at her lips as well. “I know it’s probably a little old fashioned, but I love it when you’re protective of me.”

Going back to the meat, Thor chuckled. “I love you in all ways, at all times.”

She followed him, running her arms around his waist. “You know,” she said. “The lab’s empty right now…”

Thor glanced back.

Jane grinned at him.

Needless to say, dinner was a bit charred that night.

Neither of them minded.

-o-

Thor had much to be thankful for. A good home, a loving girlfriend; he had a job he enjoyed and hobbies he excelled at. He had friends, he had relationships, and he had meaning.

He wanted for nothing in this life.

But that night, when he finally fell asleep, he dreamed of Mjölnir.

-o-

It was a fluke, most certainly. Dreams were mostly a collection of subconscious thoughts, thrown together haphazardly. Darcy talked often of her dreams, which were strange and sometimes quite explicit. Jane talked of dreaming about scientific equations, and even Thor had dreamt from time to time of construction equipment.

Jane’s mention of Mjölnir had just stirred that memory, bringing it to the forefront of his mind.

It meant nothing.

Two weeks later, that is still what he told himself.

-o-

Fortunately, there was still plenty to do. Thor was lining up all the inspections for the house, which he needed to get done before he could put the drywall in place. He was pleased with his progress.

That was the good news.

The bad news was when Tony Stark showed up at their doorstep.

Thor had never met Tony Stark. Jane had only spoken highly of him, and Thor had learned of some of his more eccentric antics from the Internet and Darcy’s first-hand account. By all measures, Tony Stark was something of a character, and he was among the elite of Earth’s society.

That was all well and good, as long as Tony Stark was a name on a check and a face on the television screen.

Having him at the lab in Puente Antiguo -- well, that just had never been part of the plan.

Jane was working, naturally, and with no one else to answer the door, Thor had taken it upon himself. He recognized the man, of course, which was no surprise. It would be impossible not to, given how much publicity Tony Stark seemed to enjoy.

What was a surprise, however, was how quickly Thor decided that he did not like the man.

There was no reason for that. The man had said nothing, but from the first smile, Thor felt his stomach flip and his fingers start to twitch. It was a gut reaction, one Thor had always gotten when he found himself in a situation he could not fully trust.

It had often happened in battle and training. It had occasionally happened during diplomatic missions his father had sent him on.

There was no reason for it to happen here.

“Hey, you must be Thor,” Stark said, still wearing sunglasses and a dapper suit.

Thor frowned. “Why would you say that?”

“Because, Point Break, you’re not one of my scientists,” he said. “And I’ve met Jane Foster. There are just two things in her life that matter: science and some dude named Thor. Simple deduction.” He smiled, holding out his hand. “I’m--”

“Tony Stark,” Thor supplied for him, feeling inexplicably disdainful. “I am aware.”

Tony pulled back his hand, looking impressed. “I wasn’t aware we’d met.”

“You are quite fond of appearing on television,” Thor reminded him.

“No, the television is quite fond of me,” Stark said. “May I come in?”

Thor had no reason to be resentful. His response to meeting Tony Stark was nonsensical and not based on any definable fact or reality. Jane had always spoken fondly of Stark, and Darcy was always quite enthusiastic about the topic. If anything, he should be grateful towards Tony Stark. Not only had the man funded Jane’s research and supported her ambitions in ways Thor could not, but he was a hero who had saved Earth several times since Thor had been cast out. Tony Stark, by all accounts, was a hero.

And no one seemed to know it like he did.

Attractive, popular, and rich; the entire world at his fingertips. Thor distrusted him because Tony Stark was just like the man Thor used to be.

Which was also why, then, his predisposition was unfair. He could not dislike someone for reminding him of himself, especially when Thor had no indication that Tony Stark had made mistakes nearly as catastrophic as Thor had.

Stepping away from the door, he gestured inside graciously. “Please,” he said. “Do come in.”

Stark pulled off his glasses, tucking them in his pocket. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Thor gritted his teeth, and reminded himself that Tony Stark was Jane’s partner. He was probably her friend in some regards. Mostly, he was a guest and Thor had no right to judge anyone, even if they did strike him as condescending elitist with an over inflated sense of themselves.

Closing the door, Thor did his best not to glare at the driver in the limousine.

He only marginally succeeded.

Inside the lab, the conversation shifted, small titters turning into gasps. Darcy squealed. Jane startled. “Mr. Stark!” she exclaimed, hurrying over from her equipment.

“Jane, please,” he said. “It’s Tony.”

“You gave me millions of dollars to get my work done,” Jane said with a breathless laugh. “You can be whoever you want.”

“Well, yeah,” Tony agreed. “Speaking of which, that’s sort of why I’m here. I’ve read all the reports, but I wanted to see it firsthand. See exactly how the money is being used.”

Jane beamed. “Well, that depends how long you’ve got.”

“I cleared my schedule,” Tony said. “You’ve got me as long as you want. Or, I mean, until Sunday, but close enough, right?”

“Honestly?” Jane said. “We better get started.”

Tony smirked. “A woman after my own heart.”

This time, Thor did not attempt to hide his glare as Jane led Tony to the first workstation and started to talk.

-o-

They talked for several hours. Thor served dinner, and they sat for several minutes before taking their plates and talking over the equipment some more. The rest of the employees went home, except for Darcy, who insisted on staying, and they talked still.

They talked while Thor did the dishes. They talked while Thor watched TV. They talked when Thor excused himself and they were probably still talking when Thor ran his power tools as loud as he possibly could.

It was unreasonable, of course. Thor had never begrudged Jane her work, and he had always been quite pleased that her partnership with Tony Stark had been fruitful. And he trusted Jane, so even if there was something of jealousy, that wasn’t it.

It was the same reason he couldn’t trust S.H.I.E.L.D., for those with power were inherently dangerous. Those who sought to control, to rule, to conquer -- they were the ones who would dictate, destroy, obliterate. Tony Stark could be a genius and a playboy and a billionaire, but he did not understand the full scope of consequences.

Nor could he possibly fully appreciate Jane’s precarious role in this.

She was pure in her intentions, and her intellect was her only guide. She had no questions of safety, and people like Tony Stark had no sense of boundaries. Why else would he show up unannounced and expect a full account? Why else would he come into Thor’s life and take the attention of the only person that mattered? Who did he think he was? Was Thor really so little to people like Tony Stark? Was he just the boyfriend? So easily cast aside and forgotten?

Thor had worked hard for his life; he had worked _too hard_.

He _deserved_ more, and yet he was subject to people like Tony Stark and Agent Coulson, _unworthy_ \--

His breath caught, and his fingers tingled. There was a sudden snap, and Thor looked down.

The wood he’d been cutting -- it was snapped in half, splinters in his own exposed palms.

Blinking rapidly, Thor grounded himself, allowing the pain and blood to remind him of his place.

A human.

And a lowly one at that.

He could not allow his prejudices to control him in this manner, if not for his own sake, then for Jane’s. Tony Stark deserved his respect and his gratitude, and Thor would grant him that willingly.

Even if he did think the man was bad news in the long run.

-o-

Thor said goodnight to Jane, who barely noticed. Stark barely acknowledged him as he excused himself to go to sleep. Though he often slept in the trailer these days, he chose to stay in his room, where he could still hear Jane and Stark talking in the next room, the soft drone lasting until Thor finally drifted off to sleep.

That night, Thor dreamt of Mjölnir again. This time, however, the scene solidified, and Thor became aware of himself in the dreamscape. The ground before him was vast desert, and Thor had no idea how he’d came to this place or why.

He could not bring himself to care, however. Not with Mjölnir, so close. Close enough to _touch_.

How long had it been? What was three years in his life? How did he think he could forget?

The hammer was buried in the rock, hilt turned toward Thor, beckoning him. Swallowing hard, Thor inched forward, and he was aware quite suddenly that he was not alone. As desolate as the landscape was, there were others there, friends and enemies alike. They closed in around Thor, but Thor could not turn his attention away from Mjölnir.

Drawn forward, he lifted his hand, reaching it out. But before he could make contact, the metal pulsed. Thor could feel it, like a jolt of electricity, and he didn’t have time to brace himself when the hammer crackled to life, emitting a powerful burst of energy.

The force of the impact sent him back, sprawling down on the ground hard enough to make his ears rings. When he managed to get his bearings, the crowd was felled around him and the hammer was still embedded in the rock, unmoved by the force.

He turned now, surveying the damage. There, he could see the Jotuns. Further still, a pack of bilgesnipe. And there, was Coulson and his S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. And even Tony Stark, rubbing his head as he tried to get to his feet.

Thor was beaten and wearied but not defeated. He still got to his feet, standing tall while the rest faltered.

In many ways, it should have been a good dream.

When Thor woke up, though, it felt like anything but.

-o-

As it turned out, Thor was right. Tony Stark was bad news.

Rather, he brought bad news, no matter how he tried to veil it as good news.

“A month?” Jane asked. Her tone somewhere between incredulous and outright amused. “You want it in a month?”

“You know the science as well as I do--”

“Better,” Jane said.

“Exactly,” Stark said. “So you know that things are converging.”

Jane nodded, as if she already knew this. Which, of course, she most certainly did. “I’m sort of surprised we haven’t seen an event already.”

“And that’s the point,” Stark said, emphatic now. “Look, whatever’s coming, it’s going to have the heads up on us. That’s not a position I’m used to being in, and it’s not one I intend on being in. Not when we have the technology.”

“We have the science,” Jane corrected. “It’s theory--”

“Jane--”

“Doctor Foster,” she said coolly.

“Doctor Foster,” he amended. “I believe in you. I believe in your work. That’s why I decided to fund this thing, and that’s why I’m here. I’m on your team.”

“Then you’ll know we have to do it right,” Jane protested.

“Sometimes you just have to do it,” Stark said. “The rubber has to hit the road sometime.”

Jane crossed her arms over her chest. “And if it doesn’t work?”

Stark was unperturbed. “You think it won’t?”

Jane blinked a few times, her posture softening. “No,” she admitted. “It just takes time--”

Stark snapped his fingers. “Time is money,” he said. “So I will give you money -- as much as you need or want -- and you give me the time.”

“Well, I’d need a bigger staff,” Jane said.

“Done,” Stark said.

“And probably more equipment,” Jane continued. “Another 3D printer--”

“Done and done,” Stark said.

“Oh, and a new flat screen TV,” Darcy chimed in. “With HD. And you know, a stereo system. And a new waffle maker. You wanted a new waffle maker, right?” She looked at Thor.

Thor looked back at her.

Stark rubbed his hands together. “I love waffles,” he said. “I’m down with all of that. In fact, I’ll give you a discretionary budget. You can get what you need to keep you inspired.”

Jane looked concerned. “Well, I don’t--”

“It’s already done,” Stark said. “And you will give me a prototype in one month. Am I right?”

Jane’s brow creased, but she nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah.”

“Fantastic,” Stark said. “Now. I would love to stay, but I have to go. You can expect a check tomorrow, and if you need more, just contact the office. Pepper loves you, by the way. If she knew I came here without her, she’d probably kill me.”

“Well, tell her I said hi,” Jane offered.

“And will you get the flat screen delivered?” Darcy asked.

Stark winked at her. “With that waffle maker,” he said, making his way to the door. “One month, everyone. I will see you all in one month!”

With that flourish, he was gone, his limousine gone from the curb before any of them could think to speak. They were still seated at the breakfast table, as it were. The pancakes were actually still steaming.

Jane shook her head. “Did I really just agree to get all my work done in one month?”

“Yeah,” Darcy said. “I think I just sold my soul for a flat screen.”

“And a waffle maker,” Thor offered.

They lapsed into silence.

Jane finally shook her head. “I can’t do it in a month,” she said. “I’ll have to call him, to tell him--”

“But he’ll take back the TV!” Darcy protested.

“We have too much to do!” Jane said. “I mean, building all the components from scratch is just the start. We have to test each part and then test them together, and then run controlled trials and there are just not enough hours in the day.”

She was starting to lose it, more than a little. Jane was brilliant, and there were few times he ever saw her truly flustered. Her intellect kept her duly in control, and her curiosity usually guided her through turmoil.

So to see her like this, Thor knew that it was no small thing. Tony Stark had grand ideas and could pull off an inspirational speech; but he was underestimating the duress it would cause Jane. For she was one person, and this was one lab, and the idea of consolidating her entire life’s work into a single month was almost impossible to imagine.

And yet, even more impossible to ignore.

Because it would be hard, but Thor knew Jane better still. It would not be impossible. Not with the resources and the staff Stark had offered. Not with Jane’s unwavering and undeterred focus.

Tony Stark brought bad news.

Thor would only offer her the good.

“Then you will work nights as well,” Thor said, as simply as he could.

Jane looked at him, somewhat desperate.

“And I will make you coffee,” he said. “Pot after pot. And when that is not enough, we will learn the art of power naps and hire three people just to replace you during those times.”

“But our lives--”

“Can be on hold for a month,” Thor said. “Our dates will be over data. We will romance each other with scientific equations. Instead of watching a movie, we will watch the printer create your latest part.”

“That’s not fair to you, Thor,” she said.

“Jane,” he said, reaching across the table and settling his hand on hers. “It’s one month to realize your dreams. Stark is right. If the timing is right, then we should not hesitate.”

Jane shook her head, skeptical. “It’ll be hard.”

“And we are up for that challenge,” Thor assured her.

The look on her face suggested doubt; it suggested fear. If he asked her to, she would back out. She would tell Tony Stark no, she would tell him it wasn’t possible, that it wasn’t worth it. She’d believe it, too, because Jane Foster loved Thor.

But Thor loved Jane Foster, too. He wanted to ask her for the rest of her life, so the least he could do was give her a month.

He squeezed her fingers. “Trust me.”

A smile twitched on her lips. She nodded. “Okay,” she said. “One month. One prototype. We can do this.”

They would do this, Thor knew.

Everything else would just have to wait.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor had grown used to the limitations of his human form, but these weeks found him more exhausted than ever before. He slumbered fast and heavy, almost dead to the world as his dreams took hold.

Thor meant what he said, every last word of it.

He would stand by Jane, no matter what. He would spend time with her in whatever manner she could afford. He valued her dreams above his own, because that was what love was truly all about.

In this, he had no second thoughts. He had no regrets.

That did not mean, however, that it was easy. The hours were long; the work was consuming. Jane breathed science on the best of days, and now she was wholly consumed by it. She ceased engaging in normal human pleasantries, and she was relentless in her management of every detail. Darcy was her second-in-command; organizing the information before it got to Jane, while also managing the rest of the staff.

Stark was true to his word, providing ample employees, equipment and other resources. The flat screen TV was even promptly delivered; and though Thor found Stark’s confidence off-putting, he could not deny the fact that the man had good taste in waffle irons.

As for Thor, he still maintained his job at the construction site and kept his current social obligations. For Jane’s sake, he took command of the calendar, coordinating with Darcy on a daily basis to make sure they were hitting their production goals. With all this, he had little time to keep working on the house. But he did what he could.

The hours were long, and he rarely had conversations with Jane that were about anything other than science. He kept everyone well fed and picked up the workspace when no one else remembered. When Jane fell asleep, he tucked her in where she lay, sometimes sleeping nearby just to make sure she didn’t tip over in the night.

The nights he found himself in bed, he still found little reprieve. For his mind was restless, and his subconscious clung to things Thor could not have.

On the plain, Mjölnir was still buried in the rock. This time, Thor hesitated. Glancing around, only to find he was alone. He drew a breath, contemplating, turning back around. Mjölnir was not his; this was a pointless exercise.

Yet, he could not leave. Indeed, he could not even look away. Mjölnir was a tool of greatness, and there it lay. Abandoned -- and discarded. It could not be forgotten; it _would not_ be forgotten.

The pull was irresistible, and his foot moved almost against his will and better judgment. The sky started to darken, a low rumble of thunder in the distance as Thor approached.

One step at a time.

The hair on his arms started to prickle, the overwhelming force almost stealing his breath as he drew closer still. Electricity sizzled in the air, and Thor stopped short, his fingers twitching as he reached down.

The familiar carvings; the worn handle. It was just as he remembered, and it felt like only yesterday he’d taken it in his grasp, having lifted it aloft.

_If he be worthy._

He hesitated. Fingers brushing against the hilt, and he could fight it no longer.

His fingers clenched closed, the power surged as the thunder clashed--

Just in time for Thor to wake up, breathless and alone.

And painfully empty-handed.

-o-

Thor checked off the days on the calendar, charting the milestones for Jane’s project. It was convenient, probably that softball ended, and Thor’s social commitments cleared up dramatically. On Friday nights, when Ricky asked him if he’d see Thor for a round, Thor smiled politely and told him he had other things to do.

In a month, he promised himself. He promised to have Ricky over when this was over; he set a date for a dinner at Jose’s house several weeks after the prototype was to be completed.

There would be time -- later.

Thor had to focus on now.

-o-

Focus, however, was hard to come by.

During the centuries that preceded his time on Earth, Thor had admittedly taken his life far too lightly. This was not so much a lack of ability but a lack of need and desire. He had been cavalier, because he had thought it was as much his birthright as the throne of Asgard.

He was wrong about both as it turned out. Though on Earth he could only rectify one of them.

To that end, he had been earnest in all his pursuits. The problem was that Thor was only human.

True, he embraced his humanity in many ways. He celebrated the way it made him compassionate and humble; he reveled in the way it made him feel alive and vibrant.

What he had to come to terms with now, however, was that it meant he was still fallible. His body could only handle so much stress; there were only so many things he could do before something finally had to give.

Everyone said it wasn’t his fault when the rigging slipped and two men fell. No one blamed him when one of those men ended up with a bad concussion and the other had a badly broken arm. His boss assured him that he had done everything right, all the paperwork; all the supervision; all of it.

But if Thor had done everything right, things wouldn’t have gone wrong.

Guilt, after all, was one of the most human emotions of them all.

-o-

There was no time to dwell, however. There were deadlines at work; there were deadlines at the lab; there were deadlines with the house.

Thor had grown used to the limitations of his human form, but these weeks found him more exhausted than ever before. He slumbered fast and heavy, almost dead to the world as his dreams took hold.

And the dreams were just as persistent as all the rest.

It was Mjölnir again, as always. In his dreams, the hammer called to him, no matter where he was. Whether he was wearing a hard hat at the construction site, stationed at the stove to make Jane dinner, or on his back in the house to finish the wiring. But when he turned around, there it was.

The sky grew darker with each passing night, the growing thunder starting to rumble in his chest. A bolt of lightning lanced across the sky, and Thor reached his hand down.

There was no reason to expect results. He knew his worth, which was to say he had none. He had dreamed this before, and even his subconscious refused to grant him the acceptance he knew he did not deserve.

Yet, he had to try. He was compelled against his will, until his fingers brushed the hilt, wrapping around.

He closed his eyes, the energy flowing into him. It was like a rush of adrenaline, peaking through his system so fast that he almost felt dizzy. His fingers clenched unconsciously, and he felt the hammer give way in the rock beneath.

Opening his eyes, he looked down in wonder as the rock trembled and crumbled, and Mjölnir started to yield.

Lightning lit up the sky, so bright it blinded him.

When Thor woke up, his eyes were burning and his fingers were tingling.

Swallowing hard, he rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. He might have succeeded, but he couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes.

-o-

The dreams became more real with each passing night. They were both enlivening and frightening, so Thor found it to be fortuitous that he had plenty of other things to do besides sleep.

Of course, he probably would have preferred some of those things to be good.

“No!” Jane screeched over the cacophony in the lab. “No, no, no!”

Thor looked up, immediately concerned. She was in no pressing danger, but the same could not be said for the hapless employee in front of her.

His name was Derek, if Thor remembered correctly, and he was one of the newer employees hired by Stark. He was likeable enough, but he was also in danger of being punched in the face by a diminutive scientist going on a few hours of sleep and three pots of coffee.

“I ran the simulation just like you said--” Derek started.

“And then you deleted the data!” Jane said. “You can’t close the process until it has finished writing, do you know that? Do you know what it does when you do that? Do you?”

Derek stammered.

“It deletes an entire day’s worth of work,” Jane said. She slammed her papers down, her hand smacking the table. “A day. We don’t have a day. Do you want to tell Tony Stark that we’re going to be late because _you_ decided to be a total _idiot_?”

Derek was all but cowering now, despite the fact that he was several inches taller than Jane. The rest of the lab had grown silent and still and Thor could see that the situation was spiraling out of control.

When no one seemed ready to intervene, Thor knew what he had to do.

For there had been a time he had been prone to fighting.

And now he was good at making peace.

“Here,” Thor said, slipping between them. “Why don’t we look at the process that was deleted and see what we can piece together. We have lost the digital copy, but surely someone has the notes?”

He looked around, making eye contact with Darcy.

“Amanda,” Darcy said finally. “That was Amanda’s process yesterday.”

“Good,” Thor said. “So Derek can work with Amanda and restore the lost data, and not as much will be lost, yes?”

Derek nodded quickly, but Jane’s gaze was hard. “We can’t afford mistakes,” she fumed.

“Indeed,” Thor said, taking her gently by the elbow. “So let them fix the error, shall we?”

Jane was stiff.

Thor pulled her gently. “Jane,” he said, softer now. “If I could have a moment?”

She looked at Thor. “We don’t have a moment,” she snapped.

He smiled. “I think maybe we do.”

She wanted to fight him, but there was nothing to fight. He was on her side and always would be. As consumed as she was, Thor knew Jane would remember that, even if unwillingly.

Drawing a breath, she let it out heavily. She gave Derek a menacing look but yielded to Thor’s touch. “I’ll be back in three minutes,” she growled. “ _Three minutes_. I want a solution by then.”

Derek nodded convulsively, ducking off toward Amanda’s workstation while Thor guided Jane toward the door. She pulled away from him, marching herself outside. The door had barely closed behind her, when she could no longer contain herself.

“It’s an amateur mistake!” she exploded. “It’s unprofessional, and more than that, it’s just stupid, okay? It’s stupid, and it’s not something we can afford. Not now. Not when we’re on this kind of deadline.”

Thor took a breath, doing his best to remain calm. “Jane.”

“I mean, this is who Stark hires?” She grunted incredulously. “This is the best he can come up with? I don’t care if Derek has a degree from Stanford, if he can’t do the work, then we can’t hit our deadline. I have half a mind to call up Stark--”

“Jane,” Thor said again.

“--because if he thinks he can give me high demands and subpar workers, then he has another thing coming,” she continued. “Because you can buy a flat screen TV but you can’t buy competence--”

“Jane!” Thor said, louder now and firmly.

She stopped, looking at him in surprise.

With her attention, he let his posture ease. “The mistake is done.”

She snorted. “And for the worse.”

Thor shook his head. “There are two lessons to learn from this,” he continued. “The first being, that the past cannot be changed; but only reconciled. Fortunately you are a smart, competent, scientist, and I have every confidence that you can take this setback in stride, based on your skills and good nature.”

The anger faded on her face somewhat. “And what’s the second?”

Thor moved closer to her. “That this mistake has afforded you three minutes alone with me,” he said. “And those are three minutes that are deeply craved.”

She stepped into his touch, pushing herself up on her toes for a kiss. “Well,” she murmured. “Maybe we can make it a few more minutes.”

“And we’ll blame Derek,” Thor returned.

“Oh, yes,” she said, taking him by the hand toward their trailer. “It is definitely all Derek’s fault.”

-o-

It was strange, really, to be the calm one. On Asgard, it had been all his friends could to do keep him in check. They tried to talk him out of his most careless plans; and Loki had been foolhardy enough to attempt getting him to see reason. There had been too many times his friends had dragged him away from a conflict, against Thor’s most vehement protests.

He owed them all apologies, and deep debts of gratitude.

Not that it mattered now.

It was Thor’s turn to be responsible, for Jane’s sake -- if not his own.

He would not let her down, as he had so many people before her.

-o-

Life did not make it easy for him.

In retrospect, things had gone surprisingly well over the last three years, so much that Thor had probably taken it for granted. Yes, there had been a steep learning curve, and adjusting to his newfound limitations had taken time and energy. But he’d been fortunate to have a good life among good people. He had found success in all things he tried, and there had been few setbacks.

These recent days had more than made up for it.

Not only did they have too much to do, but things kept going wrong.

At his work, with the lab -- and then at the house as well.

His work on the house had slowed to a crawl, and he realized one morning that he’d forgotten to finish the wiring for his electrical inspection. When he called to reschedule, the inspector had been overbooked.

“I can’t do another one until next month,” the man explained.

“But without the inspection, I cannot move ahead,” Thor said. “My work will be at a standstill.”

“Look, buddy,” the man said over the phone. “It’s not my fault you missed the appointment. It’s just a month, right?”

Thor seethed, and had the sudden fantasy of dragging the man here, of checking all the boxes for him and getting that stamp of approval. He knew his work was impeccable; he knew that it was an inspection he would pass.

He just needed time.

A little leeway.

He had neither.

Worse still, he had to take it. He was the calm one, and more than that, he was only human. He had to play by these rules, even when he felt they were beneath him.

Especially then.

“Very well,” Thor said, voice nothing more than a low growl. “A month from now.”

The inspection could wait, he supposed.

Just like everything else.

-o-

Time was pressing in reality, but in his dreams, it ceased to have meaning. Every night, without fail, he dreamed of the same moment.

There was no reason to think things would be different, but Thor was compelled by a force beyond him -- to try.

He had to try.

The storm darkened the sky; thunder clashed and lightning raged. The power surged from Mjölnir, teasing into his hand as it wrapped around the hilt.

He breathed in, seeking to control the overwhelming energy. He remembered this; he knew this. Every synapse of his body sung with anticipation, and he felt the certainty flow through him.

If he be worthy.

_If he be worthy._

Thor had been worthy once; maybe he could be again.

Maybe he could defy his curse; maybe he could overcome his exile.

All he had to do was take hold of Mjölnir, reclaim what was his birthright and _lift._

The rock shook, the wind picked up, Thor’s muscles burned as he pulled back.

When he woke up, he was still straining.

It should have felt futile, he knew.

But somehow it felt like anything but.

-o-

There was no time to dwell, least of all on the dreams. Those things were fleeting and insubstantial, and each day had trials enough without the question of what trials his subconscious was creating. They could be signs of internal conflict? Perhaps they were an indication of growing confidence of his role? Maybe it was guilt? Regret? Hope? Need?

Perhaps it was nothing at all?

Thor did not have the luxury to concern himself with that, not with his job as busy as it was and life in the lab as chaotic as it seemed to inevitably be. Jane worked doggedly, with an expertise that Thor saw fully realized in her. Even Darcy had buckled down, moving every element of the lab like a well-oiled and perfected machine.

For Thor’s part, he checked off the days on the calendar, watching the approaching date with due anticipation. Just two weeks, he told himself. Two weeks.

That was the date that mattered.

The fact that his three year anniversary was a mere week away was unimportant. There was no time for a party; Jane said nothing of it. Not even Darcy remembered.

They would celebrate later, in their own way. It was just another day, after all.

Three years was the same as two or one. Or five, or ten, or twenty even.

Thor did not need accolades or celebrations.

Not when it was the time that mattered.

-o-

No matter how he tried, however, things kept going wrong.

They missed a deadline at work; Thor’s progress on the house stalled entirely. He and Jane had not touched in a week, and work at the lab went on unabated. Thor burned a batch of cookies, and he cut through a floor board at the house, causing him hours of repair work. When parking the car one night, he backed up too far, breaking a tail light on the car.

Getting out, it was a minor thing.

Thor could handle that.

Thor _had_ to handle that.

He could not let Jane see; he could let no one see.

It was fortunate, then, that no one was around when he slammed his fist into the wall, leaving his knuckles frayed and bleeding.

Inside, Thor cleaned it off and wrapped it gingerly before starting dinner.

No one noticed.

Thor told himself that he was grateful.

-o-

In his dreams, he truly was.

His dreams came with growing ferocity, and Thor felt more alive in them than he did in the grind of daily life. The taste of electricity in the air, the ripples of energy through his skin; he strode towards Mjölnir with more confidence every night.

He smiled this time, not hesitating as he reached down. When his flesh touched the hilt, the two seemed to fuse in a perfect harmony of magic and humanity. As anticipation filled him, he pulled upward, feeling the hammer respond to his touch as it had so many times before.

Though it was heavy, he heaved it up; holding it over his head while the elements swirled above him. The storm was reaching its fevered pitch, and Thor felt himself wavering as the wind picked up and power erupted once more.

It was too much, though, and Thor went spiraling out of control, tumbling back to consciousness as he lay panting, alone in Jane’s trailer.

It was just a dream, he reminded himself numbly.

It was just a dream.

-o-

The next day, Thor made a point to work on the house, running his fingers along his handiwork, to remind himself what was real. He clapped Jose on the shoulder and shook Ricky’s hand. He made meatloaf, just to churn the meat with his fingers, and he scrubbed his hands clean under hot water.

He put his hand on Jane’s arm, kissing her on the top of her head for a long moment.

She looked up at him, perplexed. “You okay?” she asked hurriedly.

He smiled, squeezing both her shoulders with his hands. “Fine,” he promised. “I’m fine.”

But when he let go his fingers ached, deep and nagging, and worse than before.

-o-

Persistence, Thor told himself. Dedication and discipline. These were the lessons he had been forced to reconcile in his exile, and he would not forsake them now.

He would prevail in this.

He worked harder at his job. He went above and beyond in his support of Jane. He spent late nights and early mornings at the house, making sure every detail was perfect.

So set on this pursuit, that he barely noticed the storm building on the horizon. In fact, when the thunder started, he thought perhaps he was slipping into sleep. It was not until the sky opened up and the rain came pouring down that he realized it was real.

Tool still in hand, Thor went out to the front porch. The storm system blanketed the sky, and he walked across the boards while the lighting illuminated the sky and the thunder resounded so loudly that it rattled in his chest. With a step down, he exited the covered overhang, taking two more steps until he was on the muddy ground.

There he stood, letting the rain wash over him. It soaked him quickly, drenching his hair and seeping right through his clothes.

This was real, he told himself, watching as the rain ran in rivulets down his arms, feeling it coat his cheeks and wet his tongue. This storm was true and strong, and he could feel it, burning down into the pit of his stomach and tingling in the tips of his fingers.

With a breath, Thor tried to ground himself, closing his eyes as he felt the call of power. It was in his head, he reminded himself. It was nothing but powerful illusion.

Because this storm was not his to control.

No, Thor was subjected to its power. He was ruled by its superiority. He was nothing to this storm, just a speck of dust, lost in the elements. Unimportant and easily washed away by the deluge.

This storm represented pure power and unbridled tension.

Thor, however, represented human weakness and resigned unimportance. He would make no mark on this planet that anyone would remember. His entire existence would be washed away by the encroaching storm of time. He was weak; helpless.

_Unworthy._

The truth of it broke him, and Thor opened his eyes, turning his face up to the storm with a wrenching cry. The lightning sizzled; the thunder cracked.

Thor fell to his knees, humbling himself before the things he used to have, the things he did not deserve, the things he would always yearn for but never possess.

And there he stayed, bent and soaked, the god of thunder, bowed down before his own creation.

-o-

Thor was not aware of time. Indeed, minutes passed with the pounding rain, and his anguish grew in measures with the cadence of the thunder. It was as much despair as it was hope, and Thor found himself still fixed beneath the storm when Jane arrived.

“Thor!” she called to him over the melee. “What are you doing?”

Half-blinded by the rain, Thor swallowed with effort. “The storm…”

“Yeah, I can see that!” she said, pulling her rain slicker tighter over her head, holding the front together with her other hand. “Which is why we shouldn’t be outside!”

There was no way to tell her, of course. That this was what he wanted. This was what he missed. That he would let the rain soak him if only to remember what it was like to bring it forth. The rain moved on his skin, much the way it had when the storm had moved inside of him.

This was where he belonged.

Jane reached out, a hand on his shoulder. “Thor!”

He looked at her, and he could see she was desperate, too. But where the storm called to him, it spurred her away.

She was the smart one, though.

The storm could lead him nowhere.

Jane, though. Jane could take him home.

Numbly, he got to his feet.

“Come on!” she said, nodding toward the house. “Let’s get inside!”

Stiffly, he forced himself to follow.

-o-

Inside, Jane hurriedly closed the door behind them, stamping her boots on the unfinished floors. “That storm came out of nowhere!” Jane said. “They’re worried about flash flooding.”

Thor stood listlessly in the doorway, still dripping wet.

Jane threw back her hood, running her hand over her ponytail to rearrange it. “I barely noticed, of course, but when someone said you weren’t in your room, I started to get worried,” she said. “Why didn’t you take shelter?”

Thor swallowed, shrugging. “It was just a little rain.”

“A little rain?” Jane asked incredulously. “It’s a downpour out there. It just came out of nowhere, but the news is telling people to take shelter on high ground if possible.”

Thor wrinkled his nose, quizzical. “For a storm?”

“Thor,” she said. “This is more than a storm. In your entire three years here, have you ever seen a storm like this?”

Thor thought for a moment, and realized she was right. He had seen many storms much worse than this, but they had all been on Asgard and all of his own doing.

“You have to be careful,” Jane continued, voice stressed with worry. “When I saw you out there--”

“I’m sorry,” he said, somewhat hoarsely. He met her gaze, trying to smile. “It was not my intention to worry you.”

“It was just your intention to get struck by lightning?” she asked.

“I am not afraid of lightning,” Thor told her.

“As a general rule, neither am I,” she said. “But I also don’t condone standing outside in the storm of the decade with a metal tool in my hand.”

Thor looked down and he realized he was still carrying his wrench. It seemed ridiculous all of a sudden. To stand before the storm with a human tool and to expect anything less than electrocution. 

Awkwardly, he put the wrench down.

“Hey,” Jane said, reaching out and touching his arm. Her touch was warm -- just as much as Thor’s own skin was cold. When he met her gaze, she looked even more worried. “Is everything okay?”

He blinked at her, finding himself at a loss. Nothing had changed, in all honesty. He was still the same as he had been the day his father sent him to this realm. Everything was _fine_.

Except -- his throat grew tight -- and he almost smiled. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” she said. “But that’s not why you were standing in the storm.”

He wet his lips, shaking his head. “I just got lost in it, that’s all,” he explained. “The power of it -- is humbling.”

She was watching him carefully. “You can tell me what’s bothering you,” she said, gently now.

What was bothering him? The storm outside? The lack of progress on the house? The incessant dreams, night after night?

All of that and more. All of that and nothing.

For what did any of it mean -- when Jane was standing right in front of him. What was the storm in the face of her intellect? What was a mere dream in the reality of her touch? What was that which might have been with the palpable possible of what could be?

“I wish to marry you, Jane,” he blurted finally.

Her brow furrowed, almost in surprise. “What?”

“You are more valuable than anything else on this planet,” he said. “There is no future without you, and I know you do not desire marriage, but I long to be united with you in that way. To make a statement, to stand proudly before our friends and proclaim my devotion to you.”

Her mouth opened. “Wait,” she said. “That’s what’s been bothering you?”

Thor blinked.

“All these weeks, _that_?” she asked.

“I didn’t realize you’d noticed something was different,” Thor admitted.

“Of course I noticed,” she said. “I’m busy, not stupid.”

Thor’s cheeks started to burn. “I am embarrassed to admit that I could not find the words,” he said. “I do not want to force you into something.”

“Oh, come on,” she said. “Just because I don’t think about marriage doesn’t mean that I can’t understand why you might. If it matters to you then, okay.”

She said it so simply, so plaintive, that Thor thought he must have misunderstood. “Okay?”

She grinned. “Okay.”

He let out a breath, the tightness in his throat easing.

Reaching out, she ran her hands along his wet arms. “You’re like ice,” she said. “How long were you out there?”

“How long has it been raining?” Thor asked.

Jane rolled her eyes. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get you warm.”

“We have no clothes here,” Thor reminded her.

She cocked her head. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

Thor did not hesitate to follow this time.

-o-

The storm raged throughout the evening, and Thor and Jane took refuge. They huddled together underneath a few spare blankets Thor had used once to protect some of his work, tucked against each other as they looked up at the dark skies through the skylight in what would be their bedroom.

“It’s funny,” Jane murmured. “All that we’ve been going through lately, this is what it takes.”

“Hmm?” Thor mused sleepily, nosed pressed into her hair.

“The storm,” she said. “It’s the thing that made us both stop long enough to connect.”

She turned toward him somewhat, keeping the blanket on top of them pulled close as she looked at him.

“I feel like it’s all getting away from us,” she said.

He looked up a bit, stirring himself more awake. “We both knew this month--”

“But it’s always going to be a month, isn’t it?” she asked. “One month and another month and another, and then our entire lives are just going to be gone.”

Stroking her hair, he shook his head. “We would not let that happen.”

“Would we?” she asked. “I haven’t even been human these last few weeks.”

“To the contrary,” he assured her. “You have been very human, and I love you all the more for your dedication.”

Her brows knitted guiltily. “What if it’s not worth it, though?”

Propping himself up, he intensified his earnest gaze. “Jane,” he said. “We must do what we must do. You cannot fight your calling, and I would never ask you to. We will get through this month. And if there is another, we will prevail against that as well.”

A watery smile spread over her face. “I don’t know why you get it.”

“Well,” he said, kissing her. “There’s nothing like getting hit by a car a few times to make things abundantly clear.”

She snorted a laugh. “I suppose that would help,” she agreed, pulling closer to him again under the blanket. “Still, I’ve never been more glad to hear thunder.”

As she tucked her head against him while the storm raged on above them, Thor could only agree.

-o-

The storm ended, and life resumed. Thor took a long hot shower, trying to rid himself of the mud that clung stubbornly to his body. He dried himself and dressed warmly, and tried to resume life as normal.

It wasn’t normal, though. The deep ache in his chest did not abate, and he grew restless when he was supposed to be sleeping. Dreams haunting him when he closed his eyes; and his body grew wearier with each passing day.

He pushed on in the vain hope that it would get better.

It _had_ to get better.

-o-

It was Jose who finally said something. Thor had struggled through most of the week, but as he tried to keep himself upright through another workday, he was faltering -- and badly.

“Thor,” Jose said. “You sure that you’re okay?”

Thor was about to assure his friend that yes, everything was fine. After all, Thor had been through battle. He was a warrior, no matter what his current state on Earth. He was not one to be laid low, not on this planet or any.

But as he straightened, getting back to his feet, the words never came. They seized up in his throat and locked deep in his chest. His head went light and his knees went weak, and then he everything was falling down--

-o-

Down, Thor remembered. Spiraling through the bifrost, tumbling head over heels, down and down. He had been caught off guard three years ago, uncertain what would break his fall, if anything would break his fall.

He’d hit the ground hard, and stumbled to his feet. Turning, the glare of light blinded him.

On his back, he looked up and there was only one thing to see; one image that anchored him.

“Please don’t be dead,” Jane said. “Please don’t be dead.”

-o-

Thor squinted, swallowing hard and wincing. Jane was there again, a cool hand pressed against his forehead. “Thor,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

He struggled to clear his throat. “I am fine.”

Jane gave him a withering look, but it was laced with worry. “No, you’re not.”

Thor wanted to protest, but he lacked the strength. In fact, he could barely focus on Jane’s face. He was only dimly aware that he was still at work, propped up on a cot with a cool cloth pressed against his head.

“Come on,” Jane said, coaxing him to sit up. With Jose’s help, she got him to his feet, supporting his weight as he took a fumbling step. “Let’s go home.”

-o-

He slept most of the way back, head pressed against the window. Jane helped him out, calling for Darcy who helped him to his bedroom. Thor shook his head as they put him in bed. “At least put me in the trailer,” he said. “I do not wish to be in your way.”

“You can’t be in the way,” Jane said. “This is where you belong.”

“Besides,” Darcy said. “You’re way too heavy to get to the trailer.”

Jane smoothed a hand over his brow, and Thor had no choice but to relent to her touch. “Just let me do the worrying, okay?”

“But your work?” he croaked.

“Hey,” she said in gentle admonishment. “Work’s important, but it’s not the most important.”

“But your deadline?” Thor protested.

“Tony Stark can wait,” she said with a small, defiant smirk. “You’ve given up a lot for me. Let me return the favor, okay?”

Thor shook his head, trying to say no, but the words wouldn’t come. Nothing would come, not as Jane supplied him with medicine and helped him take a drink. When she pulled up the covers and pressed a cool washcloth to his forehead, he had no choice but to succumb.

It occurred to him, then, that he’d been falling for three years.

There was no reason to stop now.

-o-

As Thor fell, the fever climbed. The Aesir are a hearty race, much more resilient than most. They are not plague by illness, and though Thor had been treated for a range of injuries for his rambunctious ways, he had rarely been seriously confined to bed rest. Those few times he had been ordered to stay put, he had been more annoyed by the order than the malady itself.

Even though Thor had lived hundreds of years, this experience was still entirely new.

He was bedridden by necessity; unable to muster enough strength to care for himself, let alone anyone else. Jane helped him to the bathroom and minded the time for him to eat, drink and take medicine. In fact, Thor lost all sense of time and self, submitting himself wholly to her control, obeying wordlessly at her suggestions and compulsions.

Sometimes Jane sat silently by his bedside, hunched over a tablet with the TV on low. Other times, Thor often slept, slipping in and out of consciousness at uncertain and undetermined intervals.

He preferred the times when she talked, however, when she rambled about anything and everything.

“The house will be perfect, you know,” she said, feet up on his bed. She tapped her pencil absently against her cheek. “I was thinking about that bathroom, actually. I’ve been living in a trailer so long that I haven’t really had a bath since, well -- ever. Maybe we can get a Jacuzzi tub? Something with jets? And travertine tile in the shower.”

Thor trembled beneath the sheets, head tilted toward her as he watched her through lidded eyes.

“And we’ll have so much space, you know,” she continued, a little dreamily. “We could do anything, I think. _Anything_.”

Of everything, that was Thor’s reason to hope.

-o-

Hope was hard to hold onto, though. For this was a new kind of weakness, more pervasive, more insidious. It ate at his fortitude, ebbing away his strength until he was feeble and needy. How far would he fall? What more could he be forced to endure?

Thor had always embraced life, no matter where he was at. As a child, he had dealt well with change and had handled his shifting responsibilities with little concern. Even in his exile, though traumatic, he had adapted well and he had flourished. The idea of giving up -- it had not crossed his mind.

Surrender, it would seem, was just not in his nature.

But this was more than that. This was more than anything. This was a foe he could not fight; a situation he could find nothing to redeem by. While Thor had clung to hope with a stubborn tenacity, this illness reminded him just how helpless he was.

He was not so different than the other humans on this planet; plagued with a weakness of mind and of spirit. Their lives were but breaths, a blink of an eye. Three years or thirty years, the result would be the same.

Thor would come to the same, lowly end.

This much he had accepted for he had seen the good in his existence.

Now, however.

For the first time in his life, he was forced to think maybe death would be the better option.

-o-

Worst of all, Thor could not escape the dreams. They grew more real as the fever climbed, and Thor bordered on delirium as the intensity took hold.

The storm grew violent in his dream, with eddies of wind and rain pulling from the sky as Thor approached Mjölnir. There were many reasons to turn back, but he did not. Step by step until he took the hilt in his hand and pulled the mighty hammer aloft.

With it pointed up, the storm shifted, as he felt himself pull it in. The wind no longer swirled around him but _to_ him, and the rain broke in sheets around him. His breathing caught; his chest hurt; but he did not flinch while the power surged forth, and Thor felt the hilt tremble in his hands as it escaped the hammer and spread through him and up into the storm.

The lightning flashed; the thunder roared. Thor held fast while the winds surrounded him and the power eclipsed him. He was no longer standing vacantly, but the energy vibrated until his human clothes started to transform. The chain mail fleshed out over his arms, the weight of his armor replacing the thin t-shirt. The cape fluttered out behind him and Thor roared at the storm, his own voice louder than the echoes of thunder off the plain around him.

He was here now, fully restored to his greatest. He was here, Thor, the god of thunder. Redeemed and made new.

As if he had never left.

As if the fever had burned away the facades, as if it had cut through his failures and doubts, revealing the very heart of what was left behind.

What had never left.

-o-

Whether it was Jane’s support or Thor’s inherent perseverance, the fever subsided. It was not even a week later and Thor was back at work, trying to make up for lost time. Jane’s deadline was ever looming now, and though she said she did not mind missing it, there was a silent agreement among all of them that all efforts would be put into meeting that goal.

And why not?

It was not as if Thor had anything else to do.

Instead, he resumed his countdown, crossing off the days, trying not to linger on the date tomorrow.

Three years.

It had only been three years.

It was no dream; it was no fever induced hallucination.

It was real, indisputable truth.

In many ways, he was glad there was no time to commemorate it this year; for, in truth, Thor did not feel much like celebration.

Thor did not know what he felt at all.

-o-

That night, Thor dreamed of Mjölnir, flying through the air and bringing the hammer down hard on the ground, clearing the space around him for miles. When he got to his feet, he was the only one still standing, proud and in his truest glory.

That night, Thor dreamed of victory.

-o-

He woke modestly, to the faintest creak of his door. Blinking a few times, he squinted out, and Jane smiled apologetically as she entered. “I know I probably should have let you sleep,” she said, hastily making her way to his bedside. She put down a tray. “But we never exactly have a lot of time.”

Thor propped himself up, looking sleepily from Jane to the tray. “Is that…”

“Breakfast,” Jane supplied, sounding nervous. “I know it’s not much -- I probably should have just taken you out -- but I wanted to do something special.”

Thor sat up further, taking the tray carefully onto his lap. There was a bowl of cereal and some toast next to a lackluster pile of eggs and soggy bacon.

“It’s not going to be very good,” Jane apologized. “But, I don’t know, I tried.”

“It’s wonderful,” he said, taking a large bite of eggs to prove his point. He chewed, cocking his head. “But what is the occasion?”

She actually looked somewhat surprised. “Well, it is your three year anniversary,” she said, matter of fact.

Thor’s stomach churned hopefully; a warmth spreading in his chest.

“Darcy and I will plan a party when we’re done with this prototype,” she continued. “But I didn’t want you to think I forgot. Or didn’t care. Or something.”

He looked at the breakfast again, scooping up more eggs on a piece of toast and putting it in his mouth. True, Jane was not a refined cook, but it tasted good. Around the mouthful he smiled. “You have too much work to do to be wasting time on this,” he said.

“It’s not a waste--” Jane started.

Thor shook his head, swallowing. “I am grateful,” he said. “Though I admit, I feel sheepish.”

Jane made a funny look. “Why?”

“My behavior recently has not warranted any special attention or privilege,” he admitted. “I feel that I owe you an apology.”

At that, Jane scoffed. “Thor,” she said, almost in disbelief. “You’ve been amazing. Supportive and flexible and -- most people wouldn’t stay through something like this.”

“But I have been distant,” Thor said. “Distracted.”

“And why not?” Jane asked. “It’s been science around here, 24-7. I know you care for my sake, but it’s not your thing. I would want you to be distracted or I think you’d go crazy.”

She was being understanding and unduly so, because she did not understand the depth of his distraction. Nor did he know how to explain it. Did he even understand it himself? Did he know what to make of the dreams? How could he tell her that he pined for the one thing he could never have, even when he was so close to getting everything he’d ever hoped for on this planet.

It was a choice for him. He’d had no say in his exile, but he had a say in this. He would build this life with Jane, no matter what. His resolve could not waver. Not when he was _so close._

“Still,” he said with a steadying breath. “I want you to understand that I am fully committed to you, no matter what.”

“Hey,” Jane said. “Relationships -- they’re give and take. And you’ve given more than you’ve taken, Thor. Please believe me when I tell you that.”

While the dreams seemed real enough, this was his reality. Putting the tray aside, he reached out, taking Jane’s hand and guiding her to the bed next to him. “I love you,” he said. “There is no cause on this planet that could ever compel me to leave you.”

She smiled. “I know this is your anniversary, but I feel like it’s mine, too,” she said. “I don’t know who you were before, but I have never met anyone as strong as you -- and I don’t mean physical strength. I don’t care if you can pick up a hammer or whatever. It’s your character. It’s who you are. By any standard, you’re the strongest man I know.”

His chest clenched now, something burning inexplicably behind his eyes. He drew a breath, letting it out as he reached a hand up to cup her face. “I will spend my life trying to be worthy of you,” he promised, more vehemently than he had sworn allegiance to his father and the people of Asgard so long ago. “I will stay with you as you finish this deadline. I will finish our home together, and we will build or life. I promise you that. _I promise you_.”

She nodded, smiling again as she leaned in to kiss him. “Good,” she said, inching forward and sliding her hand under his t-shirt. “Because I’m sort of counting on that.”

-o-

Thor went to work smiling. He finished his paperwork before the rest of his team arrived, and when he asked for the afternoon off, it was a request his boss gladly gave him. Even so, Thor worked extra hard in the morning, catching the schedule up so the entire project was back on track. He bought lunch for Jose and Ricky, before politely excusing himself for the afternoon.

He drove with the windows down, the air warm as he turned the radio on loud. He stopped at the bank, making a withdrawal, before finally arriving at his destination.

“Hello,” he said, pulling out his cash and putting it on the counter. “I have this much money to spend.”

The woman behind the counter looked at the money anxiously. “And what would you like to buy today, sir?”

“An engagement ring,” he said. “The best one I can afford.”

Her fingers flitted through the bills before she looked up at him with a smile. “Well,” she said. “I think I can help you with that.”

-o-

Exiting the store, Thor pocketed what little change he had left. In the sunlight, he opened the ring box. He could have purchased a more extravagant ring, but the quality of the stones would have been compromised. Instead, he had opted for the most perfect diamond he could afford, nearly flawless and mounted on a simple ring.

It was not much -- on Asgard, he could have given Jane a palace of gold -- but it was something he had worked for. Something he had earned. He was worthy of it, and it was worthy of Jane.

The diamond glinted in the sun, and Thor closed the box with satisfaction. He would be ready to propose -- and soon. Once the prototype was done; once the house was complete.

Then Thor would take Jane into their home; walk her from room to room before showing her the stars through the skylight.

That would be when he’d ask her to marry him. That would be his defining moment. That would be the moment Thor would have everything he wanted.

That would be the moment when Thor would finally be home.

Putting the ring in his pocket, he grinned as he headed back to the car. It wouldn’t be long now.

And Thor could not wait.

-o-

Back at home, he parked the car. Glancing inside the lab, he could see Jane and Darcy, still hard at work. Jane was fully engrossed with it, modifying the almost functional prototype with specific calculations that he was sure only she could come up with. With so many employees working around the clock, Thor didn’t want to bother her -- not when they were so close. 

Instead, he went around the building toward the house. He had a few hours before dinner, which would afford him the time he needed to get things ready for the inspection tomorrow.

Whistling, he climbed the stairs, letting himself in. His tools were still in place, and he bent over to pick up the hammer when he stopped.

Something was different.

The hair on his arms stood up, and Thor felt ice run up his spine. His stomach flipped, and he found himself on alert as he gripped the hammer tight and straightened.

Something had _changed_.

Bringing the hammer to bear, he turned and stopped short, the hammer almost falling out of his hands.

Something was not _different_.

No, something there was familiar in a way it hadn’t been in a long time.

In _three years_.

For standing across the unfinished floors of Thor’s living room, in his full armor and holding their father’s spear, was Loki.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hammer has sat just beyond my reach, taunting me for three years. I have learned to accept that. I have learned to flourish in a culture that is not my own. I have worked hard and made a life by their standards. I have learned humility and submission, and I have devoted myself to correcting the error of my ways.

For a moment, Thor thought he was dreaming.

It would not be out of the question, after all. His dreams had become quite vivid recently. Perhaps he had dozed off after parking the car? Maybe he was still asleep in his bed?

Because this couldn’t be real.

This _wasn’t real_.

“Thor,” Loki said, head held high, the light through the windows glinting off the horns on his helmet.

Thor inhaled, feeling himself start to tremble. He shook his head. “Loki,” he returned. “This is a dream.”

Loki arched his eyebrows, looking around the partially finished space. “More like a nightmare,” he said. His eyes narrowed in on Thor again. “Is this truly how you have been living in your exile?”

Thor stared back at him, blank. “I have had no other choice.”

“These mortals are weak in mind and spirit,” Loki said. “Surely you could have…” Loki trailed off, wetting his lips under Thor’s plaintive shock. Clearing his throat, Loki let out a measured breath. “It is not important,” he said. “For I have come to take you home.”

Dream or not, Thor almost laughed. “I am glad to see your wit has not left you, brother,” he said. “For surely, you jest.”

Loki gave Thor a quizzical look. “I assure you, I am quite serious.”

Thor’s laugh tapered into an incredulous snort. “This is my home now,” he said, gesturing to the walls around them. “This is where I belong.”

“You cannot be serious?”

“Your humor has always been greater than mine,” Thor reminded him, his ire starting to rise just slightly. “And if you will recall, father has sent me away, bidden me never to return.”

“And you thought that was the end of it?” Loki asked, his own incredulity usurping Thor’s own. “You did not at least _try_?”

“I called for Heimdall,” Thor said. “I asked for mercy, but there was none to be had. I did not think it was possible.”

“The curse was nothing that cannot be undone,” Loki said.

Thor’s humor faded entirely. “But Mjölnir --”

“Mjölnir waits for you, Thor,” Loki said. “Though we both pined for it, we both know it was always yours.”

“But it did not yield to me,” Thor said.

“Well, when did you try it?” Loki asked.

Thor frowned. “Three years ago,” he said. “Not long after I arrived.”

Loki let out a short, curt laugh. “And that was it?”

“I was cursed as unworthy,” Thor said.

“Do you actually believe that?” Loki said.

“I am mortal, brother,” Thor said. “My body ages faster; I feel the weariness in my bones. I stood there with the hilt in my hand and it ignored me as it does every other being in this universe.”

“So try again,” Loki said. “You cannot believe that the All-Father meant for you _never_ to return? That he wished you, his favored son, to stay _here_ forever?”

Loki said it as if the answers were obvious; as though Thor should have known.

The thing was, Thor had known already. At the very least, he had come to terms with the answers.

“Well,” Thor said. “Yes.”

Loki snorted. “Then you truly are stupider than I thought.”

Thor stepped forward, hackles bristling in the way only Loki could bring forth. For if this was not real, his subconscious remembered well just how frustratingly smug his brother could be. Most of the time, Thor had refused to let it bother him.

But under these circumstances--

Well, Thor had endured too much to suffer sleights from his brother, real or imagined though he may be. “I was cast out with nothing,” he said. “The hammer has sat just beyond my reach, taunting me for three years. I have learned to accept that. I have learned to flourish in a culture that is not my own. I have worked hard and made a life by their standards. I have learned humility and submission, and I have devoted myself to correcting the error of my ways. It has not been easy, nor has it been without its regrets and doubts and guilt. Because I am haunted every day by the things I sacrificed so foolishly and all the consequences left to play out that I would have no ability to fix. So, yes, I _was_ stupid, but I will not stand here in this state to endure your insults, _brother_.”

Loki’s expression softened, almost breaking. “Thor,” he said, keeping his voice even. “You misunderstand me.”

Thor squared his shoulders defensively. “I do not see how.”

“Mjölnir,” Loki said. “The worth it speaks of is not about power. It is not about a warrior or even a king. The worth it speaks to is about whom you’ll serve. About putting yourself last. That is the lesson the All-Father wanted you to learn. He realized neither of us understood kingship at all.”

The gentle tone was odd, coming from Loki, but it was hard not to be mollified. “That still does not explain why you are here,” he said. “I assume Father had forbid contact.”

“He did,” Loki said. 

“And you came without his permission?” Thor asked.

“I did not need his permission,” Loki said. “I tried to respect his wishes, but his orders no longer stand the test of time. Not when the All-Father is asleep.”

The anger drained from Thor, and the revelation was like a splash of cold water. “He’s asleep?”

Loki nodded, grimly. “I have been on the throne for nearly three years.”

Thor’s eyes widened. If this was a dream, it was a strange and cruel one. One he could not trace to his subconscious; one he could not fathom at all.

Though it made sense, now that he looked again: his posture was taller; Gungnir shone brightly for him. Even though three years was nothing for a being like Loki, the look on his face was older and wiser. He was worn, just as Thor was, and Thor realized that the last three years were not only his trial.

“But what happened?” Thor asked, almost at a loss.

“Your exile, the threat of the Jotuns--” Loki started but he couldn’t finish. “There was more…”

There was more -- Thor could only imagine. So much more that Thor had missed. It was written on Loki’s face, carried on his shoulders. He’d known life had continued back on Asgard, but he had not been able to fathom how much. He had not been able to fathom _this_.

It was one thing to imagine his friends and family happy without him. It was entirely another to imagine them suffering.

He blinked rapidly, trying to keep control of his spiraling emotions.

“You are king?” he asked, his voice almost gone as he looked over Loki in the grandeur of his posture.

“I am,” Loki said, but his voice was strangely devoid of pride. It was hollow almost, more vacant than Thor remembered. “Mother feels it is only a matter of time before he passes--”

“Then you should go,” Thor said with new urgency. “Asgard will need you now--”

“That’s why I’m here,” Loki said, and he hesitated, showing an uncharacteristic moment of weakness. “Because Asgard needs more than me.”

“You are her king,” Thor said. “You are brave and wise and good.”

“I am none of those things,” Loki said, shoulders sagging visibly now. “You are not the only one who needed a lesson in kingship, I’m afraid.”

“But Asgard--”

“Is at war,” Loki said. “I rebuffed peace with Jotunheim, because I thought it would make me weak. Now the war has spread, unchecked. It is consuming the realms; and though I have enlisted the best soldiers I can find, we are losing this war, Thor.”

“Think back to your training,” Thor said. “If you talk to Sif or the Warriors Three--”

“They are faithful generals, but I am no leader for them,” Loki admitted. “I need a warrior.”

Thor blinked, taken aback. “Loki, you surely can see,” he said. “I am no warrior. Not anymore.”

Loki stepped forward earnestly. “But you are,” he said. “Now, more than ever. I can see the wisdom in you now. I can see the restraint and the reason. You are better than you were; I see it as plainly as I see you in front of me.”

“And I am still not sure how this cannot be a dream,” Thor stated.

Loki reached out, a cold hand on Thor’s arm. Thor turned, surprised. His brother did not initiate contact, but it was still a touch he knew.

A touch that no dream could replicate.

“You have changed on this planet,” Loki said, as kind as he had ever been. “For the better.”

Thor held his brother’s gaze. Seeing a fear he had not known before, a doubt so pervasive that it made Thor weak. “And so have you.”

Loki’s mouth twisted into a rueful smile. “In my case, not for the better.”

“Do not be so sure, brother,” Thor said. “There are many ways to learn humility.”

Loki nodded. “Indeed,” he said. “And many ways to regain your worth.”

Thor smiled. “You should go,” he said. “Asgard needs her king, and you always were better suited.”

Loki shook his head. “No,” he said. “We were _both_ meant to be kings.”

“But there is but one throne, and it is rightfully yours,” Thor said.

“One throne,” Loki said. “Two princes.”

Thor studied his brother, but there was no hint of malice or trickery. There was no derision or mockery. Loki was being genuine.

Honest, clear and true.

“And you think it is so easy?” Thor asked.

“Thor,” Loki said. “Has anything about these three years been easy for you?”

Thor shrugged.

“Me neither,” he said. “I thought I could be king; I thought I didn’t need help. I was wrong.”

“Not as wrong as I was,” Thor said.

“Brother, there is much you do not know,” Loki said. “Come with me, and I will tell you everything.”

It was an open invitation. It was a warm acceptance. It was a pathway to Asgard.

To _home._

Something panged in Thor’s chest.

For three years, this had been his home; this small planet and its short-lived people, this small town and these four walls. This was the home he had built for himself, the one he had claimed, the one that had accepted him when he had nothing.

And yet, he was still a son of Asgard. He had centuries there, and though they had felt like but a dream, Loki reminded him how real they were. He could no more deny them than he could deny these things.

Thor was a man with two homes, divided by two lives; to be a king or a pauper, to live in glory or to live simply.

“I don’t know if I can,” Thor finally said, voice catching breathlessly in his throat.

Loki’s expression faltered, slipping from hope into fear. “War will consume all the realms,” he said, more ardently now. “Even this one. It is only a matter of time; surely you know this.”

Thor had suspected, but to hear it confirmed was not easy, because, this was his fault. The burden of war was his, and he could not leave Loki to carry that weight alone. Not when it was Thor’s.

Too many people had already paid for his mistakes. He could sacrifice no one else to his selfishness.

Well, almost no one else.

He drew a breath and let it out. “I will go with you,” he said.

Loki’s face brightened.

“But,” Thor said. “There is something I must do first.”

Loki pressed his lips together. “Time is of the essence.”

“Trust me,” Thor said. “Time can spare me for a bit longer yet.”

-o-

When cast out of Asgard, there had not been an opportunity to say goodbye. He had had no closure. The things he’d wished to tell people had all gone unsaid. Even now, he could only hope that his friends and loved ones had understood that it was his arrogance, and not his lack of passion, that had led to his punishment.

This time, however, he had the chance to make amends.

The irony, of course, was that he had no idea how.

Walking stiffly, he made his way out of the house and across the yard toward the lab. At the door, he hesitated, watching the activity inside. It was bustling with energy; vibrant and full. Thor had never fully grasped the science perhaps, but he had always thrived in that atmosphere. He had always felt lucky to be a part of it.

Standing outside, however, it was abundantly clear just how set apart he was. Perhaps he had been fooling himself? Maybe he had never belonged?

He swallowed hard and refused to think it. This was a part of him, a part of him he did not part with easily.

Steadying himself, he opened the door.

With so much activity, his presence was hardly noticed. He could see that they were all hard at work, and the prototype was looking more advanced than before. However, with the paneling removed, it was clear that it was in need of fine tuning.

It was a crude thing, honesty. Thor had adapted easily to Earth technology, given how primitive it was. The bulk of the prototype looked unwieldy, and Thor found it remarkable that such a bulky device would do what Jane said it would do.

It would open a portal to another world.

No doubt, it would have limited capacity. It probably would not be very precise, and it probably would not provide stable passage. Thor remembered tales of life before the bifrost, though they seemed like a mere myth to him now. Thor wondered if his ancestors had created something much like this before taking to the stars and never looking back.

Perhaps that was Jane’s future. It would be fitting for her, to live among the stars she had dreamed about her whole life. It was entirely possible, Thor had to conclude, that she would be better off without him.

“Hey!” Darcy said, almost running into him. “Tell me you’re going to make dinner.”

Thor startled. “What?”

“Dinner,” she said. “I tried to talk one of the new guys into making something earlier, but all he did was give me a bag of Doritos -- which I ate, mind you. But dinner, Thor, are you going to make dinner?”

“Ah,” Thor said, trying to remember how to respond. He had spent the last three years in this role, but he suddenly felt conspicuous. Worse, he felt guilty. “Not tonight, I’m afraid. Perhaps it is a good night for takeout.”

Darcy made a face, sighing melodramatically. “I was hoping for pancakes,” she muttered. “But I suppose pizza will do.” She paused, looking out at the workers. “Did you hear that? Somebody needs to order pizza, and _now._ ”

It was so normal, so blissfully simple, that Thor’s chest ached. For it was not the big things, it was nothing grand, but the little things -- the small day-to-day realities of life on Earth -- that was what had made him feel connected. That was what had made this home. Darcy Lewis did not have Jane’s brilliance, but she was a remarkable person all on her own. For she had taught him how to embrace life and how to defy expectations. She had shown him, more than anyone else that sometimes, heart mattered more than the mind.

That the greatest accomplishments were things no one looked for, things you felt inside.

He smiled fondly. “Surely with so many resources, you could have simply hired a cook,” he suggested.

“That is actually a really good idea,” Darcy said. “But then, what would you do?”

Thor chuckled. “Tell me,” he said. “Where is Jane?”

Darcy looked around, looking a little surprised. “Huh,” she said, finding Jane to be absent just as Thor had. “Oh, you know, I’ll bet she’s on the roof. She wanted to recalculate one of the sequences and said she couldn’t think.”

“And the roof is good for thinking,” Thor remembered. Thinking, amongst other things. Jane had showed him the view from the roof, modest though it was, and Thor had never needed to look beyond that.

Until now.

“Yeah, probably,” Darcy said, shrugging indifferently as she shuffled through a stack of papers. “Some of us don’t have that luxury, though.”

Thor reached out, putting a gentle hand on Darcy’s shoulder.

Darcy looked up, eyebrows raised.

“I trust that you will prevail,” he said. “In all things you attempt.”

Darcy looked at his hand questioningly. “Uh, okay.”

It was awkward, to be sure, but Thor knew it had to be said. “I want you to know, I value your friendship,” he said. “You are one of the few people on this planet I would trust with my life.”

“Um,” Darcy said. “Thanks?”

Thor squeezed her shoulder once more. “I need you to know that,” he said, letting his hand fall.

She wrinkled her brow. “Dude,” she said. “I always have.”

“Indeed,” he said. “Even so. It is worth saying, and I fear I do not say it enough.”

Darcy shrugged. “I guess,” she said. “But hey, next time? Just say it in pancakes, okay?”

Thor grinned so wide it hurt. “Most certainly.”

With that, he retreated, moving towards the back door. He hesitated; watching as Darcy got back to work, running the lab seamlessly. It was hard to imagine what this place would have been like without him. It was hard to think what might have become of Darcy and all these other people.

One person could change everything. Thor had learned that for the worse back on Jotunheim.

But he liked to think he had learned it for the better on Earth.

Finally, he turned away, exiting the room and letting the door shut firmly behind him.

-o-

In the last three years, Thor had been to the roof countless times. He could still remember that first time, when Jane brought him up there, when it had been just the two of them, alone beneath the stars.

Thor’s world had been a mess, then. Thor had been broken and resigned, and somehow, when she showed him her dreams, he had found his own.

Much had changed since then. In fact, very little on the roof was the same. The furniture had been updated, and even the view had changed.

But the stars still filled the expanse in the growing twilight.

And there was Jane.

He stood silently for a moment, just watching her. It was hard to explain how she had changed him, or even why. It was a difficult thing to pinpoint, the way he had transformed. She had offered him more than a second chance. No, she had merely offered him a place and a friendship.

A relationship.

A home.

In Jane, he had seen that victory is a matter of perception. Sometimes the greatest battles are those you fight inside yourself.

If he had met Jane before his fall, he would have been polite and charming before going on his way. He wouldn’t have looked twice; he wouldn’t have thought a lowly Earth scientist would have anything to offer him.

He could have gained the throne of Asgard.

And lost so much else.

Across the roof, Jane turned, her face brightening when she saw him. “Hey!” she said. “I thought that was you.”

Thor swallowed hard, and forced himself to walk forward. “I apologize for disturbing you.”

She rolled her eyes, putting her paperwork aside. “I think I’ve just about got it,” she said. “I mean, it’s not perfect, but I think the only way we’re going to refine it now is to do actual trials. Which, I’ve got to talk to Stark about safety protocols, but seriously. I think we’re almost there. In a week we could be trying to open a portal through space. Can you imagine?”

He sat down next to her, still struggling to gain control over his emotions.

“Of course you can imagine,” Jane said. “I’m sure it seems so primitive to you, but maybe I’ll get you clearance or whatever and you can tell me how it compares. You are the only one on Earth qualified to write reviews of wormhole travel.”

Thor laughed, but the sound was choked.

Jane’s smile faded when she noticed.

For she certainly would notice.

Three years ago, perhaps not. But Jane had changed as well. She had grown more attuned to the needs of others. Science, though a major drive in her life, was not her only passion. She had opened up her mind, body and spirit to Thor.

Which made this so much harder.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, frowning now.

He drew a breath but scarcely knew what to do with it. He had never lied to Jane, not once. She knew of his every shame and every disgrace. She knew his crimes; she knew his weakness.

And none of it had been so hard to confess as this.

“Thor,” she said, reaching out to him now. “Is something wrong?”

When he met her eyes, the emotions nearly broke him. “Jane,” he started, voice cracking precariously. “I…”

The color drained from her face. “Are you okay?” she asked. “Did something happen?”

“Yes,” he said. “To both. I am -- very well. Better than well, in fact.”

Jane looked confused. “Okay,” she replied slowly.

Thor gathered himself, mustering every ounce of courage he could find. “Loki has come to find me,” he said finally.

Jane stared at him, waiting for more. “Loki,” she said. “You mean… your brother?”

Thor nodded. “He is waiting in the house,” he said, gesturing toward their home.

Gaping, Jane’s breath caught. “Thor,” she said. “That’s, amazing! I mean, your brother? I know you’ve missed him -- and he’s here? That’s great! Isn’t it?”

Thor inclined his head tautly. “I have missed him a great deal,” he said. “And I did not expect to see him again.”

“Then you should go to him,” Jane said. “I mean, three years. You two have a lot of catching up to do, and I would love to meet him--”

She stopped short, however, when she saw the look on Thor’s face.

He let out a shaky breath. “He has come with tidings,” he said. “And I’m afraid not all is well on Asgard.”

Jane kept her composure. “Oh.”

“War has been inflicted upon the realms,” Thor explained as best he could. “Worse still, my father has fallen into sleep.”

Jane looked uncertain in her response.

“And has not woken in three years,” Thor continued. “My mother does not believe he will rise again. It may be only a matter of time.”

“Thor,” Jane said. “I’m sorry.”

Thor shook his head. “That is not even the worst of it,” he said. “My brother has gained the throne, but the weight of the war has taken its toll. He will not say it, but I fear the fate of Asgard teeters on the brink. And if Asgard falls, then all the realms will be lost to darkness.”

Jane had no response to this, for what response would there be? For as much as Jane dreamed of the stars, this was nothing she could fully grasp. Not with the scope of horror with which Thor felt it in the very essence of his being. For this was his fault. This was his mistake.

And now, it was his responsibility.

“Loki has come not merely to offer me passage to Asgard,” Thor said gravely. “But to seek my help in turning the tide of this war.”

It was too much to ask one person to understand, and though Jane was smart and quick, the weight of his revelation caught her entirely off guard. Thor hated himself for this -- he wished he could have waited.

But the fate of the universe hung in the balance.

Thor could not sit by idly.

Not when he had the power to make a difference.

“I have to go with him,” Thor continued helplessly. “For the risk of war spreading is too great. It will consume the realms. Billions of people will die, and it is only a matter of time before it comes to Earth and finds every person here defenseless. I cannot let that happen. I am no warrior anymore, but I cannot abide such a fate when there is a chance I could make a difference.”

“Wait,” Jane said, her own voice thin. “You’re saying your brother showed up and recruited you for a war. And you’re going.”

Thor swallowed. “Loki is proud,” he said. “He would not have come if he had not truly needed my help.”

“Well, if he could come, then why didn’t he come earlier?” Jane asked. “And hell, do you know what they call Loki in our books? The god of mischief. You’ve told me about his pranks. Couldn’t this be one of them?”

“My brother has changed,” Thor said. “I fear for his safety as well.”

Jane let out a staggered breath, her entire body starting to shake. “Three years,” she said. “Three years, and he shows up now?”

“Time is very different on Asgard--”

“Three years, and you’re telling me you want to leave _now_?” Jane said, her voice rising. “If you wanted to break up with me--”

“Jane,” Thor said quickly, reaching a hand up to her hair.

She shook him away.

His shoulders fell. “This war is my fault,” he said. “I started it. It is my duty to finish it.”

“But what about our plans?” Jane asked. She pointed out into the evening. “You’re building me a house. You’ve been talking about marriage. You told me you’d never leave, that you’d always be there.”

“Promises I meant,” he said. “And promises I still intend to keep.”

“When?” Jane asked. “How?”

“When the war is over.”

She shook her head, getting to her feet and turning away from him.

Thor stood as well, following after her. “It is true that Loki’s offer to let me return home fills me with happiness,” he said. “But I could never stay away from Earth.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, still faced out toward the sky. “You’re crazy,” she said. “I should have taken Erik’s advice three years ago and had nothing to do with you. You tell me you’re some exiled alien prince, and I believe you because apparently I’m an idiot. But here you are – leaving; just like _everyone else_.”

Her words stung, but Thor reminded himself that this could not be about him. Not right now. “Jane,” he said. “Please--”

She whirled on him. “Please what?” she asked. “Please marry you? Please give up every great opportunity in the world for you? Please change everything so we can be together? Please believe your promises of undying love and your declarations of commitment?”

“Please,” Thor said again. “Know that you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I cannot say that I am glad to have started a war, but I will always be grateful that my arrogance led me to you. I spent hundreds of years on Asgard, and became a foolish, selfish person. Three years with you and I am finally someone that does not need to hold a hammer to know his own worth in this world.”

Her anger wavered, and her eyes glistened. “Three years,” she said, voice staggering. “Three years is nothing but a blink of the eye.”

He stepped forward. “Or a lifetime,” he said, reaching his hand up again.

This time, she did not shy from the touch, turning her cheek into his hand and closing her eyes. A tear slithered down her face and she half choked on a sob. “I think I always knew you were too good to stay,” she said, opening her eyes again. “I knew that I couldn’t be the only one to see just how incredible you are.”

“I don’t need anyone to see it,” he said. “Just you.”

She tried to smile, almost grimacing with the effort. “You’re sure this is real?”

It was a valid question, for it was one Thor had asked himself more than he let on. It was the question he’d been asking since he woke up on Earth, since he first saw Jane Foster’s face.

It would be easy, after all, to see these three years as an aberration. To forget them as quickly as he embraced them, for time was fleeting. Perhaps that was why the dreams had been so vivid.

Perhaps it was even fate.

Thor knew better than to fight fate. His life on Asgard had taught him that over the centuries.

However, these three years on Earth had taught him a different lesson. The power of free will. For he could not fight fate.

But he could pick his life.

It was up to Thor to find that balance, to fulfill his destiny and live up to the promises he made.

He reached down, taking her hand in his. “This is real,” he said, lifting her hand and holding it to his chest. “When I doubt anything, I merely look to you and I am grounded in the things that matter most. I used to think that my father sent me here to punish me, but I realize now that he wanted me to learn.”

“Learn what?” Jane asked.

“How to lead,” Thor said. “How to rule. He needed to break my pride and my ego until it fit the mold, until I could return to Asgard as a better man and a much better leader for my people.”

Jane swallowed with trepidation. “Well,” she said. “I didn’t know you before, but I’d still say he probably succeeded.”

“In all ways but one,” Thor said.

Jane wet her lips, looking up at him, almost afraid to be hopeful.

“I have gained humility and wisdom, this is true,” Thor said. “I am a better man, and I’m sure I could serve my people with far more integrity than ever.”

Jane’s eyes didn’t leave his face. “But?”

“But I have no heart for battle,” he said. “I no longer crave the throne. Loki has come here offering me power and glory, and I want none of it. All I want, Jane Foster, is you.”

“Then why are you going?” she asked.

“Because it is a battle that must be fought,” Thor said. “I started this war with a bloodlust. I will end it for the sake of peace for all the realms. This is a victory I desire not for my own glory, but for the good of others.”

“And me?” Jane asked, voice small.

“For you, as well,” he said. “I would not have the strength to fight, if not for you. Nor the motivation to win.”

Her face crumpled then. “You can’t go. You made me believe it was going to be me and you.”

“And it shall,” Thor said, more readily now. “I swear to you, I will return.”

“You’re going to fight a war,” Jane said. “Some huge cosmic war that might destroy everything. You have to be a lunatic. I’m in love with a lunatic.”

“I never lied to you,” he said.

“Sure,” Jane replied. “And it was easy to believe that you were from outer space when I didn’t think you’d ever be able to go home. I mean, maybe the crazy was sexy. Maybe I just felt responsible. Maybe I’m the crazy one.”

“Jane,” he said, gently again. “I will admit there were times when my past life seemed like a dream to me as well. It haunted me, no matter how hard I struggled to let it go.”

“Three years,” she said. “You moved on in three years. How long will it take you to forget Earth? To forget me?”

“It is not possible,” he assured her, with all the confidence he had ever known. “For I know now what is real. And it is not power or victory. It is not conquest or redemption. It is people. It is life. It is you.”

She took a breath. Then another. “So you’ll come back.”

“It’s just for a little while,” he promised.

She laughed, bitter and wry. “Just a month, right?”

“Give or take,” he agreed. “But I swear on my life--”

She shook her head. “I’d rather you not.”

“Jane, you know me better than anyone.”

“I thought I did,” she said.

“You do,” he said. “I have unfinished business on Asgard, but I also have unfinished business here. I have every intention to attend to both.”

She nodded, blinking rapidly. “You better,” she said.

“This is my home,” he said. “I will protect this home, just as I protect you.”

“Just do me a favor out there,” she said.

“Anything.”

She reached out, fussing with his shirt. “Protect yourself too,” she said. “Because the house isn’t going to build itself.”

He smiled. “You have my word.”

She pursed her lips. “I don’t want to believe you,” she said. “But you’re the best man I know. I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“Finish your prototype,” Thor said. “Build your gateway and attain the stars.”

“Fine,” she said. “As long as you go and save the galaxy or whatever.”

“Deal,” he said, tilting his head forward to rest against her forehead.

She inhaled sharply, nuzzling against him. “Deal.”

-o-

Time was pressing, but Thor had waited three years.

One more night would not hurt.

He could not be certain when he would return again, and he wanted to spend these fleeting moments with Jane. To hold onto this life while he could, to cherish it and honor it, while it was still under his purview.

He didn’t want to forget. Not the view from the roof or the look of the stars from Earth; not the vast New Mexico landscape or the scent of Jane’s skin. Thor wanted to remember everything, every last detail, until he returned.

One more night under the stars; where everything was good and peaceful.

Where everything was possible.

Most simply put, where everything _was_.

-o-

He bid Jane farewell in the morning with a small amount of fanfare. She offered to go with him and bid him a further goodbye, but he did not want to implicate her as far as S.H.I.E.L.D. was concerned. No, this was something he had to do alone.

Instead, he tidied his room and kissed Jane one last time. He tucked the ring box under the floorboards in the half-finished master bedroom on the construction site, right where the light hit the ground.

This was still the dream.

But it would be the reality someday.

Thor would make sure of that.

-o-

Out in the desert, beyond Jane’s property, Thor met Loki. His brother looked more confident today, if only by the slight swagger in his posture and the sarcasm in his tone.

“Are you sure you have said all your goodbyes?” Loki asked. “I imagine it must feel something like leaving behind your favorite pet.”

Thor was not amused. “They are more than that, Loki.”

“No, brother,” Loki said. “You were simply less.”

“I might have believed you once,” Thor said. “But then, Father’s sentence of exile would have been for nothing.”

Loki seemed to concede that point. “I watched you, you know.”

Thor looked at his brother curiously.

“From Asgard, Heimdall had a clear view,” Loki said. “It made me wonder, how you did it. If I had been cast to Midgard, I would have found a way to rule.”

“And you would have missed the point,” Thor said.

“Given my current predicament, I might have to agree,” Loki said.

“This predicament,” Thor told him. “It is not yours. These are my mistakes. I return only to fix them.”

Loki scoffed. “Your time here has not broken you of all your pride, then.”

Thor cocked his head.

Loki sighed. “I goaded you into Jotunheim,” he said. “I even lured the Jotuns to come on the day of your coronation. I wanted to show Father and all of Asgard that making you king would be foolish.”

The admission was startling, both in its candor and in its scope. “Two guards were murdered,” Thor said. “And I slaughtered Jotuns in retribution.”

“You were so confident,” Loki said. “So brash and unrefined. I wanted you to make that mistake; just as I had seen you make so many others. But you have to believe, I never thought that Father -- I never _imagined_ \--”

It would be easy to get angry. It would be easy to rage and turn Loki away.

Yet, Thor could find no space for anger.

Instead, he laughed. “Then I owe you a debt of gratitude,” Thor said. “For being the only one willing to admit just how horribly suited for the throne I was.”

“Well,” Loki said. “It turns out I am no better suited. All of Asgard’s resources, and I have brought us nearly to ruin. I got everything I wanted, and have nearly lost it as by my own shortcomings. So imagine my surprise to look down and see you so _happy_.”

“The irony is not lost on me,” Thor said. He studied Loki for a moment. “You did not need to be so desperate to come to me.”

Loki’s mouth curved up ruefully. “Actually, I think I did,” he said.

Thor let out a breath, shaking his head. “It does not matter,” he said. “We will join together; we will show the realms what the sons of Odin can do when united.”

Loki’s smile faded. “About that…”

Thor gave his brother an assessing look.

“Maybe that is a story best told later,” Loki said. “Our first priority is a return to Asgard.”

Thor nodded. “Very well,” he agreed. “What are we waiting for?”

Loki raised his eyebrows.

Thor shrugged.

“I believe you’re missing something,” Loki said. “Something important.”

Thor looked down at his vacant hand. “Mjölnir,” he said.

“I assume you know where it is,” Loki said.

“Indeed,” Thor said, looking out again. “But it will be -- difficult to get it.”

This time Loki’s smile was nothing short of devious. “Thor, we are on Midgard,” he said. “Trust me when I say _nothing_ is difficult for me.”

Loki had a point, of course. With a little magic, getting to Mjölnir would be easy.

But for Thor to pick up the hammer.

Well, that would be a little harder.

-o-

Loki did most of the hard work. With a small amount of magic, he transported them to the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. It only took a small sleight of hand for Loki to get them access, and with Loki’s easy facades, no one even looked twice as they entered the restricted area. With the door shut -- for S.H.I.E.L.D. had built the entire facility around Mjölnir -- Thor turned and faced the hammer for the first time in three years.

There it was, still embedded in the rock. The ground had been laid around it, and light came in through the skylights S.H.I.E.L.D. had constructed as a roof. There was equipment nearby, evidence of their attempts to understand the hammer, but Mjölnir showed no signs of distress or change.

Indeed, it looked the same as ever. Waiting.

Thor flexed his fingers, feeling a familiar tingle start down his spine.

Waiting for _Thor_.

“I don’t mean to hurry you,” Loki said. “But sooner would be better than later.”

Thor nodded absently, starting a slow approach. He remembered this, as if from a dream. The landscape was different, to be sure, and no one was there but Loki, but it was still somehow the same.

For despite everything else in the dream, it had always been about the inexplicable pull of the hammer. The way it called to him, down into every fiber of his being.

“I think this may still be a dream,” he breathed.

“More like a nightmare,” Loki quipped.

“How else could I be here?” Thor asked.

“Because I brought you here,” Loki said, just a touch of exasperation in his voice. “Honestly, Thor--”

“And that as well,” Thor said. “In what reality have you ever come to me for anything?”

“Just because I knew your weaknesses better than most does not mean I was unaware of your strengths,” Loki said.

“But to admit them?” Thor asked, still approaching slowly.

“To be fair, brother,” Loki said. “You have gone out of your way to prove them now.”

Pausing, Thor looked back. “You truly have changed.”

“There is no need to be insulting,” Loki said. “I assure you, the change in you is far more dramatic.”

Thor shook his head. “Do not underestimate yourself,” he said. “Your honesty and vulnerability -- it is something I do not recognize in you.”

“It was hard won, I assure you,” Loki said. “I believed I could prevail, even after Father fell into sleep. I had the might of the military; I had the loyalty of the people; I had the worth of the crown.”

“You had everything you wanted,” Thor observed.

“And every scheme I made to keep it backfired,” Loki said. “Every move I made was countered by our enemy. Every plan I came up with had a complication I did not expect. I lost soldiers; I lost good people; I lost friends. I saw our people suffer, and for the first time in my life, I realized that mattered to me.”

Thor’s gut twisted. “I am sorry I was not there, brother,” he said. “You should not have had to go through that alone.”

“Do not be so quick to apologize,” Loki said. “Remember that it took me three years to come to you.”

“Pride is a hard habit to break,” Thor mused.

Loki inclined his head. “Harder still when it breaks you.”

Thor looked back to the hammer. Mjölnir was singing to him now, a familiar song Thor could never forget no matter how hard he tried to put it from his mind. He still knew every note, and he could feel the energy start to swell around him. “We are not so different, you and I,” he said.

“Three years ago I would have denied it,” Loki said.

“And now?” Thor asked, his breath starting to hitch, his heart skipping a beat. Above him, the clouds started to darken over the skylights.

“Now,” Loki said over the distant sound of thunder. “I could not deny it, even if I wanted to.”

Thor was closer now, close enough to read the inscription still emblazoned on the side. The runes were practically glowing now as the rock started to vibrate. “And the people,” Thor continued. “Are you sure they still want me?”

“Thor,” Loki said, almost aghast. “They call for you. Your name is still revered in the streets. They speak your name with hope that you may still come and deliver them.”

Thor started to lift his hand, feeling the air ripple as the first raindrops fell on the glass above. “And Father?”

“He loves us both, I believe,” Loki said. “Even if he had a terrible way of showing it.”

Thor inched forward, fingers visibly trembling now. “And you, Loki?”

“I tried to forget you,” Loki admitted. “I tried to tell myself I had no brother -- I had no need of one. But that, more than all the rest, was the thing I was most wrong about. You are _my brother_ , Thor, and it has taken me three years to realize that nothing will change that. I want you to come back with me, Thor. I want you to stand by me in this time of need. I want to fix this together. I want you to come _home_.”

Home.

To Asgard.

The lightning flashed; the rain started to pick up as the wind whipped against the building.

Thor couldn’t walk away.

Not from this.

Not from Loki.

Still, he hesitated. “And if this does not work?”

“Thor,” Loki said. “Surely you cannot doubt _now_.”

The thunder rumbled; the rain intensified. The storm was gathering, and Thor’s heart was pounding in his ears. “It has been three years.”

“That is _nothing_ ,” Loki said.

“It is a lifetime,” Thor replied.

“Fine,” Loki said, coming up alongside Thor. His presence was sure and steady. “Then let me believe for us both.”

Thor couldn’t look away from Mjölnir. Emboldened by his brother, his fingers extended as he closed the last of the distance. He had craved this, dreamed of it. He had ached for it, needed it, _yearned_ for it.

But now that he was here, Thor was scared.

He was terrified.

For he was so small; he was so insignificant.

Worth had seemed so obvious to him once.

Now he hardly understood it at all.

Mjölnir did not seek victory or might.

Mjölnir wanted a pure heart, not a perfect one. But one that sought the betterment of others, one that sought to serve, that sought to be a vehicle for the betterment of the galaxy.

Worth was what you found when you finally stopped looking.

Worth was not picking up a hammer.

Worth was knowing the right time.

His fingers closed around the hilt, and the rush was instantaneous. The storm burst forth, shattering the skylights. The wind swept around him, swirling like a tornado as the lightning filled his eyes and the thunder churned in his chest.

The rock gave way, crumbling beneath him, and Thor hoisted the hammer, lifting it into the air. The elements were called to it, and Thor felt himself transform. The armor appeared on his body, the cape billowing out from the nape of his neck.

And more than that. He could feel it, renewed his mind and body. His very cells were rejuvenated, and he could feel the weight of mortality lifted from him. His chest expanded, and his grip strengthened. His arm steadied, and he felt the roar build up in his chest as he bellowed out to the heavens, reclaiming the destiny that was and always had been rightfully his.

When the whirlwind died, he turned, facing his brother once more drawn to his full stature.

Loki let out an indignant laugh. “And just when I thought I might like you,” he said.

Thor was nonplussed. “Come,” he said, striding to the door.

“And where are we going now?” Loki asked.

Thor stopped, meeting Loki’s gaze before looking up. “To Asgard.”

-o-

For Thor, it had ended with the hammer.

His exile; his redemption; the salvation of his people and the restoration of peace throughout the realms.

Three years he had spent, struggling to hold onto his worth once again. The journey had not been easy.

Now, he would stop at nothing until he fulfilled his promise to Jane and returned to Earth.

Until he returned home.

For it ended with the hammer.

And he vowed, with all his worth, that all the rest would start with it, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: First, I'm sorry this one is late. I’ve had something of a bad week, which isn’t so much an excuse as an explanation. More importantly, I want to take a second to say thank you to the people who helped me with this fic. G-rox-theninja was a fantastic beta, and I appreciate the time and effort the put into this. I know it was no short task, and he was kind, supportive and thorough throughout. I never would have posted this without him. Secondly, lena7142 was the one who inspired this, and she has been a wonderful cheerleader in every regard. For those who never checked out the [Thor art](http://portraitoftheoddity.tumblr.com/post/115266361309/thor-for-fayedartmouth-and-her-fic-measure-of-a) she did in regards to this fic, you should. It’s simply amazing. And last, I’m thrilled for those of you who gave this fic a try, and even more so those who stuck with it through the end. I wasn’t sure this fic would hold anyone’s attention, so it means so much for the ongoing support. I’m not sure if this ending will be satisfactory, especially since it feels like less of an ending and more of a transition point, but the future is open to speculation.


End file.
